She'd had these dreams. Vivid ones, colorful and oppressive ones. Dreams that lingered, that gave her a sense of unreal upon waking up. She'd lie in her bed feeling out of place and out of time the world around her looking the way it did yesterday but feeling so different.
She'd lie there, trying to hold on to the dream that had felt so real while it vanished, dissolved and left her with nothing but feelings.
Sometimes sadness, sometimes dread, sometimes anger at or wariness about someone around her.
Sometimes it left her with an ache in her clit, with tension below her navel and tension in her thighs, with hard nipples and a frantically beating heart. It left her with a longing and the fading image of a taunting grin and steel blue eyes, the face around them dissolving like that of the Cheshire Cat.
On days like these Darcy wished Barnes would play his usual act of elusive and aloof stranger. His act where he would talk to only a few people and look at basically no one and nothing that wasn't memories from decades ago.
On days that followed a morning on which she woke up all wet for him, desperately wishing for him to be inside her, wishing to feel his cold, metal fingers pinching her nipples, on days like these Darcy hoped that she wouldn't have to look him in the eyes.
She knows that he would see right trough her. Barnes would take one look at her face and he would just know. That man can probably smell desperation.
This morning it was especially bad. She felt so empty when waking up, she needed so much to be filled, needed his tongue and fingers all over her, needed to feel his strength to feel his hot breath on her neck. She needed to feel his dick twitching when he came.
The whole morning she fidgets behind her desk shifting in her chair, trying hard to not give into her need for friction, not to grind her hips down onto the chair.
She didn't even like the guy! She found him weird and scary, found him to be not in the least trustworthy. His metal arm looked scary to her and usually her fantasies about it included the accidental crushing of bones, definitely not anything sexual.
Still she sits here ready to jump this man who looked like violent anger personified just because of a dream she couldn't even remember.
'Lewis! I don't see you typing! You're already behind on your reports, chop chop!'
Startled Darcy looks around for Agent Brown who is her acting superior whenever she is grounded to do some paperwork.
She wants to give her a grin and a thumps up to show that she's still working hard.
Instead of meeting beautiful, stern looking dark eyes Darcy' s meet a pair of icy blue ones, giving her what feels like a death stare.
She can feel heat washing over her face, she can feel her mouth going slack and she can feel herself jerking back. She' s looking like a complete fool and there is nothing she can do about it.