This is your warning. This is a three shot piece of pure fluff that the plot bunnies in my head refused to let go. Think of Plot...there's nothing to it. This is pure, brain mushing fluff. If it's not what you want, I highly recommend turning back.

If you're still reading this, I'm assuming you appreciate fluff, providing that it entertains. This story takes place Post Avengers. There is an established Clint and Darcy friendship, and as with all my stories, no slash is present. Jane and Darcy have moved to the Avengers Tower, which is where this takes place. I own nothing. Just so we're clear.

And so! On with the fluffiness.

Clint strolled into the lab with a pair of coffees in hand. He scanned the room, and grinned when he saw the back of Darcy's head, peeking out from behind a mountain of files. It had recently become his tradition to bring her coffee in the morning, since she had been venting about how Jane never let her out of the lab during "science time". Having seen how intense Jane could be once she was in the lab, Clint had offered to swing by with gourmet caffeine for her, an offer she had gladly accepted.

"A double caramel non-fat latte with extra whip and cinnamon on the top."he announced, setting it on her desk. Darcy plucked the earbuds from her iPod out of her ears and smiled.

"You remembered!" she squealed, when she saw that he'd ordered the coffee to her exact preferences.

"Duh." said Clint gleefully, ignoring the fact that he'd previously forgotten the cinnamon twice. He blamed it on the coffee fumes.

He reached out and snagged one of earphones, popping it into his own ear. Darcy laughed at the horrified expression on his face.

"What?" she asked.

Clint grimaced. "What the hell was the shit?" He pulled out the earphone and tossed it back at her.

"Starships. By Nicki Minaj" said Darcy. "Seriously, Clint. What's wrong with it?"

"It's shit." said Clint simply. "Please tell me that Nicki Minaj music is just bad judgement on your part, and you actually have awesome taste in music?"

Darcy rolled her eyes as Clint snagged her iPod from her pocket. "Grabby!"

"You'll get over it." muttered Clint, his mind processing the song titles on her playlists.

After a moment, he shook his head. "You need new music."

"What are you, the god of iPods?" Darcy snickered. "What do you listen to, Hawk-ass?"

Clint pulled out his own iPod and handed it to her wordlessly, his smirk firmly in place.

Darcy frowned as she scrolled through the titles, and then laughed when she played one titled 'The Boys Round Here.'

"Country?" She asked. "Seriously? You listen to country?"

Clint glared at her. "What's so funny?"

"Only your taste in music!" giggled Darcy. "You made fun of my playlists?"

"Country music," said Clint firmly. "Tells a story. It's relatable, and it takes talent to perform. Unlike that shit." he pointed to her iPod.

"How would you know if it takes talent to perform?" snorted Darcy.

"I played in a country band, thank you. I lived in Texas for awhile, and I was part of a group there." He shrugged. "We weren't that bad, either."

Darcy laughed hard at that, prompting another glare from Clint. "Seriously, Katniss?" she said. Clint winced at the nickname. "You played in a country band?"

"Lead acoustic." said Clint proudly. "And I wrote most of our music."

"Yeah, right."

"I did!" said Clint, rolling his eyes. She giggled again.

"What'd you write about? Oh, my arrow left me, the redhead kicked my ass, so I drowned my whiskey sorrows with my bow?"

Clint smiled nostalgically. "Not quite."

Darcy set down her coffee with a flourish. "Then, a bet."

He blinked in surprise at the sudden change in topics. "A bet?"

Darcy nodded. "I don't think you can write a country song. Seriously, it's not an assassin thing to do!"

He opened his mouth to protest, but she silenced him with a wave of her hand. "But because you brought me coffee, I'll give you the benefit of the doubt here. If you can write me a country song, I will..." she thought for a moment. "You can remodel my iPod." A small grimace crossed her face.

He ponder this. "And if I can't?"

She smiled wickedly, giving him chills in a couple of places. "Then you, Hawk-ass, will have to perform a Nicki Minaj flash mob in Times Square." she paused for a moment. "Dressed as a female version of Tony."

Bruce snorted from his desk in the corner, and Jane's mouth twitched involuntarily. Clint rubbed his hand across his jaw, and then smiled.

"Okay Darcy." he grinned. "We have a bet."

"I'll tell Tony to have a video camera on hand." said Darcy, laughing. "You have a week, Katniss."

She sashayed out of the lab, and Clint once again wondered if she wore her hip hugging jeans with the sole purpose of torturing him.

He sighed, and then saw Bruce smirking at him, which was weird. Bruce rarely smirked, and never at him.

"What?" Clint asked.

"You-" chuckled Bruce. "Played in a country band?"

Clint rolled his eyes and walked out of the lab.

He found his guitar where he had put it when he had first moved to the Avengers Tower, lying under his bed. He brushed off a fine layer of dust, and strummed a couple of chords thoughtfully.

He had a week to write Darcy Lewis a song. He had this handled. It was one song.

He grabbed a piece of paper and began to scribble lyrics that were already popping into his head. A week for one song?

Darcy had seriously underestimated his abilities, that was for sure. But it was alright.

He was looking forward to handing her countrified iPod back to her when all this was over.