Hunching behind her desk in Jane's lab, Darcy tried to calm down while simultaneously preparing for an attack when she suddenly felt the distinct sensation of eyes on her ass. Tucking and rolling under the desk to the other side she tried to spot who the perpetrator was, but the thick braid her hair was in slapped across her eyes causing them to fill with stinging tears.
"Satan's hairy balls!", Darcy snarled quietly. It always looked so easy in the movies when a badass woman had her hair in a braid and demolished her enemies in blaze of elegant glory. Just another insult to her lifelong goal to be as awesome as Angelina. She'd sign up for the next course on battle appropriate hairstyle S.H.I.E.L.D taught if she made it out of the lab alive.
Blinking rapidly to clear her eyes, spitting out hair, Darcy rolled onto her toes and took deep even breaths. Remembering information from a book she read that contained a lot of training montages Darcy peeked around the desk from the right side and caught the shadow on the far left of the lab shift silently and subtly closer to her position. She swallowed the instinctual hysterical panic anyone sane would feel when an assassin was stalking them and ducked back behind the desk as her racing thoughts took time to thank Thor that action books were apparently more reliable than action movies.
She could do this, even if she was defeated in a humiliating and horrific way, it was a fight to the death. A Viking's Funeral was really the only way to go and to deserve that she'd have to go down in that blaze of glory. She may not be even remotely close to the bamf-ness that is Sif, but she'd not disappoint her lightning brother.
Silently lowering herself to lay stomach down on the floor she reached into the awesome black cargo pants worn just for this horrendous day. Pulling out a round ball that fit snug in her hand, she carefully waited for the shadow to move just a little to the right. This waiting game was more geared towards the assassin as he was also a sniper, and heaven knows they can sit ridiculously still for an absurd amount of time, while she couldn't stay still long enough to not paint her entire toe when she tried to do her nails.
There! Grinning a little madly, Darcy valiantly held in the evil cackle. With unholy glee she pressed the almost invisible button on the side of the ball and immediately rolled it towards the shadow while preparing to make a break for the lab doors. Crouching on her toes to keep an eye on the feet of the shadow, Darcy felt no guilt as the ball broke apart and spewed out a foul-smelling gas in a surprisingly large cloud.
"Holy Hell! What is this!?" yelled the appalled assassin as he choked, trying to breathe.
Letting lose her cackle Darcy booked it for the doors even if it meant missing the hilarious outcome of her stink bomb. Being a scientist wrangler for Tony Stark had its perks even if it meant taking yoga classes from her other scientist Bruce to manage her blood pressure. Besides, yoga does wonderous things for a body, yes it does. Eye candy, hello. And yeah, maybe bruce had claimed a yellow alert once when she leered a little too openly, but she's learning how to not be so obvious.
Just as she'd cleared the doors to sweet, sweet freedom and delicious fresh air (Tony Stark did not skimp when he made stink bombs apparently) an arrow struck the wall of the hallway in front of her before exploding. Letting out an embarrassingly girly shriek Darcy dived for the floor with both hands covering the back of her head. She'd seen what exploding arrows did on the news footage from the whole New York Aliens fiasco okay? Don't Judge.
Not willing to make an immobile target she started spider crawling further down the hallways and as far away from the lab as she could get. Holy Thor, this crawl took muscles she didn't even know she had. Refusing to move at a snails pace, Darcy jumped to her feet and sprinted down the hallway. She only got a few feet before hearing the assassin begin to chase. Heart leaping in her throat, she picked up speed and banked a hard right towards Agent Everyone-Is-Just-Waiting-To-Become-My-Minion's office, her heavy braid beating against her back with every step. Seriously, the braid is a mistake up there with that time she thought she could sing and dance to "Single Ladies" in four inch heels during Karaoke after seven or ten tequila shots. On the plus side, a doctor was in the bar and was able to administer first aid in record time.
Heaving and desperately ignoring the stabbing pain in her side and thighs, Darcy skidded around the last corner and put the last spurt of energy into her legs and made the fatal mistake of glancing behind to see how close the hell hound was to catching up. Whipping her head back around, she was just in time to slam face first into the closed door of her sanctuary.
With a disconcertingly dull thud and the bastard child of a grunt and yelp, she bounced off the door as she flailed unattractively, trying to find something to grab onto. Luck finally looked down upon her as her flailing hand grasped the doorknob and twisted it as she completed her drop to the ground.
"By the power of Grayskull, everything hurts! Asylum, I plead for immediate asylum!" Darcy yelled as she tried to tuck and roll into the room, because everyone knows thinking you were safe before you actually got inside your sanctuary was another fatal mistake. Unfortunately, her muscles rebelled and she more flopped through the doorway than rolled, her body not willing to tuck. "Bloody hell on a pogo stick. Son of Coul, be a bro and avenge me once I pass. I fought bravely, but the opposing force was too great. "
With an almost silent sigh, which was the equivilant of someone else screaming and hurling things in frustration, Phil Coulson very deliberately set down his pen and stood to move around his desk towards Jane's assistant who was currently dressed in all black battle gear, with combat boots, cargo pants, and a bullet proof vest. She was also covered in glitter sticking on every available surface with what appeared to be liquid adhesive.
"Are those platypuses?" Phil asked with a twitch of his brow.
Blinking up at Agent He-Who-Chuck-Norris-Bows-To Darcy tried to breathe deep enough to stop the spots floating that were making everything slightly rainbow-tinted. Not as awesome as she thought seeing in rainbow colors would be. "Wha-"
Darcy was interrupted by the sudden arrival of the assassin who, she noted with resentment, didn't bump into anything and wasn't nearly as out of breath as her. He did, however, waft a revolting stench into her supposed sanctuary. Trying to hold in another evil cackle, Darcy watched the warrior breathe through his mouth in a vain attempt to be free of the stink while rapidly blinking his red and watery eyes. Man, Tony Stark REALLY doesn't skimp on stink bombs. His eyes are kind of doing that red and puffy thing hers did when she had the monumentally horrible idea to try out what pepper spray really did first hand. Now she kind of felt bad, because that was a mistake even above the "Single Ladies".
"I am unfriending you as soon as I can get this stink out Darcy!" He bellowed, coughed, and then tried to glare menacingly, but his eyes squinted more than glared.
"Let's not be hasty here! You dumped water on me from the vents earlier, perfectly timed for when Charmicheal was passing. You know Charmicheal is a creepy creeper who creeps Clint! He has pictures of me I don't even know about! Now he thinks I set that up for him! Also, exploding glitter arrows, really? How original," Darcy sneered. Well, she tried to sneer, but her eyes were also experiencing some technical difficulty with that rainbow vision. Crossing her eyes, she noticed it was, in fact, a bright silver platypus that was reflecting the lights from the room in kaleidoscope of color directly into her eyes. Grunting, she reached her floppy arm up to tug the mammal off her eyelid, tearing off two lashes at the same time. "And now you're causing me to become deformed! Those could have been wishes in the future you know!"
"Children." Came the calm and slightly muffled voice of Agent Every-Spy-Movie-Ever-Was-Based-Off-Me. Clint and Darcy snapped their gazes to him, noting he somehow put on a gas mask without even moving, and yet they still felt his disappointed stare keenly. "If you're both quite done, you can vacate my office, clean yourselves up, and report back to me to clean the disaster you've inevitably left in your wake."
"Yeah, about that, you might just want to cordon off Jane's lab, seal the doors, and run the biohazard protocol. Also, the glitter is all his fault. I at least had the awesome foresight to contain my mess," Darcy sniffed, childishly stuck her tongue out at Clint, and studiously ignored Son of Coul's second sigh for the day.
Clint's eyebrow twitched as his fingers clenched to keep from rubbing at the stinging in his eyes and he growled at her. "You're going to help me clean every piece of glitter or so help me I'll make you the volunteer for the tear gas in the chemical exposure course!"
"I've already done that course, and you know what, I was going to help, but you just had to get all mean. Biceps, I am disappointed in you, " Darcy said in a hurt tone, tears glistening in her eyes.
"Aw, Darce, I'm okay with that. I know those aren't real tears either, so you can stop. Come on, before Coulson actually starts using that pen he's picked up," Clint said in a slightly exasperatedly affectionate tone, reaching out a hand to lever Darcy from the floor. "Even though it's horrible, you did great on defending yourself Darce. Took me by surprise, and did I see you spider crawl?"
Leaning slightly away from him even as her hand squeezed his in return affection, she chuckled weekly. "What an error in judgment that was. My thighs will never forgive me. Are your eyes going to be okay? I really didn't think it would be that bad," Darcy said with slight remorse, even if she didn't regret it. They both started stumbling out the door, okay, Darcy stumbled and Clint wrapped his hand around her arm to stabilize her. They both continued to ignore the stare of Agent I-Faced-Down-A-God-And-Survived they could feel itching up their spines.
"They'll be fine babe, nothing a drench shower, eye wash, and ice won't fix. How's your head? That was a spectacular collision with the door. You really should know what a fatal mistake that was from every horror movie ever," Clint reassured and chided all at once, even as his fingers ghosted over the already growing bump on her forehead. Never let it be said sharp shooters couldn't have layers.
"It hurts like I tried to open a door with my face. And yes, I knew even as I looked back it was a mistake I wouldn't come back from. Now I understand all those skimpily clad co-eds a little better. It's instinctual. When you're not actively thinking and just running, it's like a default reaction. At least I wasn't running through the woods because Thor knows I would have tripped over a conveniently placed tree root, twisted my ankle and never have made it to safety. Wow, you really are just wafting that stank all over the place. It's potent," Darcy grimaced as she pinched her nose closed and wobbled towards their room in the S.H.I.E.L.D H.Q. On a second thought, she tugged his hand and headed towards Bruce's lab since he was gone for the day, refusing to be around a bunch of hyper aware people with guns especially today. "Lets use Bruce's shower station. I really don't want that smell in our room or the glitter. Will this glue wash off with just water? Please say yes."
Grunting with a nod she didn't see, Clint followed her into the thankfully smell free lab, avoiding the glitter platypuses that littered behind her. They started stripping as soon as the doors locked and Clint pressed the button to black out the glass. Immediately they both rolled up their clothes and tossed them down the incinerator shoot, there was no salvaging them. "Aw, boots, no," Clint lamented as he noticed they too carried the horrid smell. They too would burn. New boots were always a pain in the ass to break in.
"Sorry. I know you loved them, babe. They're going to a better place now," Darcy comforted with false sympathy, patting his bare chest and ignoring his answering scowl. Yum. Stroking his lovely pectorals lightly, because she never could stop herself, the glue caking the platypuses to her skin started to itch and crack. Sighing, she stopped petting Clint and walked into the stall, slamming her fist on the button that made the pressurized water hot and not cold.
Feeling Clint step in behind her, his abs and hips sliding against her ass and back, she sighed in appreciation. Darcy turned around in his arms and reached for the industrial and chemical grade soap to start cleaning that smell and the glue from them. As much as a quicky appealed, his eyes and her head wouldn't allow it. Damn Tony Stark for never half assing anything, and damn doors.
Clint leaned into Darcy's touch as she ran the soap over his chest and stomach, feeling his muscles relax. "I think we definitely beat our pranks from last year Darce, " He mumbled with a slight grin.
With an answering grin, Darcy wrapped her arms around his shoulders and leaned up to kiss his warmed lips before laughing. "Happy April Fools' Day baby."
