This is my version of how Darcy got her taser. It was supposed to be shorter, and more humorous.
This will be a series of "drabbles" about all of the women connected to the Avengers in one way or another.
They won't come on a regular schedule.
*I don't own anything recognizable*
Also, I hadn't intended to go this deep, but I think I should add a **TRIGGER WARNING** sexual assault/rape mentioned, not graphic though, but trying to be safe.
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Darcy had a tendency to attract attention. Often she loved it; she lived for being the life of the party. Sometimes though, a girl just wanted a drink. Alone.
On those occasions she would wear her least flattering sweater, nurse a single beer, flash a "diamond" when approached and scat. Up to today, she had been fairly lucky, nothing more concerning than a toothless leer or mild groping that a firm slap could deter.
Today though, some big dude just wasn't taking "No." for an answer. Asshole.
She ducked into an alley, hoping to lose him, but it turned out to be a dead-end, like her phone that had died when she pulled it out to dial 911. Stupid, stupid, STUPID. She dug around in her purse, hoping for the bottle of Mace her friend a given her recently, but no such luck. Damn.
"Silly guuurl," the drunk guy drawled behind her, "you can't run from me."
"Leave me the hell alone" Darcy hissed, searching desperately for some kind of weapon- a stone, a sliver of glass, anything- while keeping an eye on the approaching threat.
Darcy had never been one for the damsel-in-distress movies, but she wasn't a complete fool. She screamed, somewhere in the back of her mind she made a mental note to thank her mom for making her join a sorority, all those football games had actually been worth something.
The majority of her brain was focused on dodging the now-angry drunk in front of her. While screaming.
Then her savior came.
Her savior was not a knight in shining armor.
Her savior looked more like a lady-in-waiting.
Waiting for her time to kill.
The first coherent thought in Darcy's mind was that she wanted to take self-defense lessons from the woman in front of her.
Because anyone who can take down a guy three times their size while wearing a very expensive dress and not even break a sweat was just. Damn. Awesome. And a fantastic role model.
Then the woman is crouching down in front of her and-
Wait, since when was she on the ground?!
This woman, Natalie leads her to the street, hands her a small black contraption and says, "Don't hurt yourself." A an afterthought, she adds "Or your friends."
Natalie looks closely at Darcy, searching her face. Finally, Darcy snaps back to reality and starts mumbling her thanks, her gratitude, offering assurances that she is fine, nothing had happened before Natalie arrived.
Natalie nods, asks for Darcy's address and hails a cab. Before she lets Darcy in, she has a few words with the driver, and passes over some cash.
As Darcy's cab rolls away, she watches Natalie pull out a cell phone and place a call, looking over her shoulder into the alley.
Darcy's "attacker" never gets another drink of alcohol. His DNA is matched to a few reported rapes, and once his face is in the paper, more women come forward. A striking woman with dark red hair leads the prosecution, the judge has never seen her before, but thinks she must be from another district, probably something to do with this becoming a high-profile case and all that. The defendant takes one look at her and pleads guilty. He still serves multiple life sentences.
Darcy studies the black thing she's been given, and realizes it must be a taser.
She names it Natalie. She secretly thinks of it as her guardian angel. Arch -angel.
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Let me know what you think!
Love, Jane