Author's Note: This is prequel #2 in my series "Her Big, Green, Guardian Angel," but can be read as a standalone.

"Jane honey, I'm saying this because we're friends, and friends tell each other the truth, right?"

"Right," Jane replied wearily from the other end of the phone, finally pausing in her vocal tirade about Thor and their lack of romance since he had started training with the other Avengers.

Darcy nodded, waiting for the crosswalk sign to flash. "Glad we agree." When the sign changed to the little walking man symbol, she made her way across the street with the rest of the crowd. "So, here's the truth, all coming from a place of warmth and love and friendship." Jane sighed, as she should, in anticipation of what Darcy was about to say. "If I hear Thor's name one more time today in regards to anything other than imminent danger, I am going to hide all of the coffee."

Jane gasped. "But-"

"Further..." Darcy rushed to say before Jane could protest further. "If you say you-know-who's name, I will refuse to go out and purchase any and all beverages whatsoever."

"But-"

"'But you need coffee to survive,' you say? My response to that would be 'possible, given the rate you consume it, but really, shouldn't that be even more motivation for you to follow my advice?'"

"It doesn't sound like advice." Jane actually sounded angry. "It sounds like blackmail."

Darcy frowned and stepped up onto the sidewalk. "Blackmail is used for evil. This is for the good of myself and the rest of humanity," she replied, gesturing with a sweep of her arm and narrowly missing the head of the pedestrian beside her. Whoops. "Now... which street was I supposed to make that right on to go to the froyo place?"

Jane groaned.

"I'm kidding." Darcy paused in the middle of the sidewalk and did a full 360 turn, ignoring the glares from those who had to dodge around her. "Kind of."

Before Jane said a word, there was a loud *pop* in the air and suddenly everything went black. Well, given that it was night and it was already kind of black outside, now just everything was darker. With that one little pop, all of the street lights had gone out, the glow emanating from inside restaurants and stores was extinguished like a candle. Even the headlights on cars seemed to have quit operating, which could be very, very...

All at once there were several large crashing noises and dozens of car horns blared.

Bad. This could be very, very bad.

"Uh... Darcy," the friend she had forgotten she was still on the phone with said. "Did..."

"Did we just lose power throughout the entire city? Yeppers." She paused, glancing at the device in her hand. "Hey, but my phone is still working, so that's a plus."

As if voice activated, her phone suddenly sparked and the screen went blank, taking Jane's picture with it. "Dang it," Darcy growled. That was brand new, and there were only so many times she could claim that it was a work-related accident before finance stopped approving her replacement requisitions. Although, being SHIELD, they probably had a higher maximum allowance than most places.

Having watched hundreds of hours of footage from the last two large-scale Avenger rescues, Darcy knew what people did when they panicked. And both of those events had taken place mostly in the daytime.

In almost total darkness? Everyone was being surprisingly quiet and it was utterly terrifying.

Darcy was being pulled along the street with the crowd as if being carried downstream by a strong current and she had no power to stop it. People were whispering quietly to each other, and a tingle of goosebumps rushed down her spine when she realized why.

There was someone out there wanting to inflict harm, and in the darkness, it was completely possible that said "someone" was five feet away, impossible to see and thus impossible to run away from until it was too late.

At that realization, Darcy decided to direct her focus on something else. Something preferably less terrifying and more productive.

After a moment of thought, she pulled out a handy, little flashlight her mom had put in her gifted "Congrats on the new job, don't die in the big city" kit. Along with a can of pepper spray, gum, spare change, and an appropriately themed box of superhero band-aids. Oh, and a mini sewing kit... because you never know when you're going to need to sew your way out a life-threatening emergency.

A few select idiots decided at that exact moment that it was a good idea to run in the dark and Darcy was shoved out of the crowd and into the small opening of a storefront. Glaring in the general direction of the miscreants, Darcy took her flashlight and illuminated the shop's sign. And what do you know? It was the froyo shop.

She considered going in, but when she tested the door's handle, it was locked. "Go find your own hiding place!" a voice shouted from inside, like they were five-year-olds playing hide-and-seek or something, except the voice was much more panicked than warranted a childhood game.

Darcy squirmed her way into the crowd again, ready to yell back something very mature and along the lines of "Don't be a baby!" Then she saw a metallic man flying down the street, cars exploding in his wake, and decided maybe the froyo hider had the right idea.

It had been relatively quiet since the lights went out, but when everyone spotted the flying figure and heard the explosions, the screams were instantaneous as people struggled to get away. Darcy ended up tripping over someone who was lying prostrate on the sidewalk, and her arms skidded painfully over the gravelly texture of the cement.

She didn't let herself dwell and stay down for long, though, because she knew what would happen. She would be trampled to death and that was not what she wanted to be listed in her obituary.

So Darcy pushed off the ground with a grimace and started walking again. She felt like she was probably bleeding, but pushed the thought from her mind before she started imagining the worst, like buckets of blood pouring off her arms or something. As the crowd surged forward and away from the general direction of chaos, Darcy risked a glance back and noticed that the flying figure was still moving in the opposite direction.

As the crowd surged forward and away from the general direction of chaos, Darcy risked a glance back and noticed that the flying figure was still moving in the opposite direction. It would be logical to follow the example of the rest of the population and continue moving away from the source of danger.

However, if she was near the froyo shop... Darcy's brain started firing off possibilities. Places there may be weapons, places she could hide, places she could get tacos.

She filed the last away as irrelevant at the moment, and the first... well, the first made her feel a little frantic so she filed that one away too, but as a last resort. Settling with the second, she dove to the left, plunging through the crowd and out into the cramped street of abandoned cars. There was a slight path straight through the middle where the floating man had gone, leaving destruction in his wake.

Darcy kept to the edges of that, wondering if this was what Moses felt like when walking through the parted Red Sea. Except Moses probably hadn't made his way along the path by crouching behind cars and sidestepping broken glass.

The thought made her giggle, despite all of the terror and chaos around her. Perhaps the giggle was a little manic.

This was fine. She was fine. And... oh, alleyway. Darcy immediately veered right, and back through the throng of people.

So, if memory served correct, and Darcy had pulled said memory out of a dusty mental box of all the useless information that she had learned, so its reliability was in question, there was an alleyway near the froyo shop that SHIELD used for storage. Darcy only knew this because she'd had to help Jane lug a few boxes of old sensors from there a month or two into her employment.

Why they were using old equipment when they were working on a project for Tony Stark, one of the richest men in the world, was beyond her. "New isn't always better, Darcy," Jane had said right before grunting and readjusting the two heavy boxes she had been carrying. Just because Jane was an award-winning scientist and Darcy the wielder of a four-year Poli Sci degree did not mean that they'd had the foresight to get a ride for their return. Halfway back to the tower they'd stopped for a two-hour break, refueling with multiple rounds of froyo.

It took Darcy four tries to get the right alleyway, and for each try she acquired at least one new scrape or bruise for her efforts. The sidewalks were cleared for the most part now, hopefully with everyone either making it home or into a safe hiding spot. Darcy didn't need crowds as an excuse to injure herself, though. She'd managed to walk into all of those poles and stray trash cans all on her own, thank you very much.

The passcode to the metal, storage door was stupidly simple, and once entered into the ancient key pad, the door clicked unlocked.

Before even crossing the threshold, Darcy felt some of the tension ease out of her body.

Then, the tension came back threefold like a lead weight on her chest as the door slammed shut behind her. There was someone else already in there.

In hindsight, her first greeting being "Hello, do we have any food in this joint?" was probably not the best way to approach the situation. But at the time, seeing a faint shadow crouched in the corner and without a great escape, she had just said the first thing that came to mind.

When there was no response, she took a step forward and instantly she could hear something like a rubber band being pulled taut.

"Don't move or I'll shoot."

Darcy threw her hands up in the air before realizing the man probably couldn't see her. It was even darker inside than out, with only a few high windows providing a shimmer of light. "Right," Darcy croaked. "Yeah. No moving. Geez, and to think I had thought coming here was the better option."

Silence, then, "What was your alternative?"

Darcy didn't mention the weapons or the tacos. "Trying to get back to the tower. Tony Stark has got to have some sort of generator that will work in this blackout."

There was a hum of consideration. "I doubt he's even there right now what with the metallic man on the loose."

"Yeah, but Jarvis... dang, even he'd be out, wouldn't he?" Darcy said, thinking of her favorite British AI.

"You know Jarvis?" the voice asked incredulously.

The question made her rewind the last few sentences that had been exchanged, recognition sparking in the back of her brain. "Yes... do I know you?" His voice sounded vaguely familiar, like perhaps she'd heard it at the end of a hallway at work or on the other side of a door in Stark Tower. And then suddenly it clicked with the voice and the rubber band sound and him being here... "Hawkeye?"

There was a slight pause, then a reluctant "Yes?"

Darcy let out a breath of relief. "Oh, thank goodness. I thought you were a crazy person."

"And you are?" Hawkeye asked, apparently not as convinced that she wasn't a crazy person herself.

"Darcy Lewis." She waved, then put her hand down, grateful for the darkness and its ability to hide her awkward mannerisms. "I work for Jane."

"Coffee girl?"

Darcy groaned. "Is that what my legacy has amounted to thus far?"

Hawkeye coughed. "Err..." There was the sound of what Darcy presumed to be Hawkeye's bow being laid on the ground. "I've also heard that you tasered Thor?"

"Hmm." Darcy liked the sound of that. "Better. Now, I'm about to approach you. Don't try any ninja stuff."

Hawkeye snorted. "I'm not a ninja."

"Assassin. Ninja. Whatever." When she got within what she thought was a few feet from him, she stopped. "Can I pull out my flashlight?" Foreseeing possible skepticism, she added, "For identity confirmation purposes."

"You have a light?" he asked, excited. "Good, give it here." The light was taken from her grip with impressive accuracy for being in the near dark. Ninja.

Then Darcy got an eyeful of a superhero that she had never wanted to see. "Is that blood? Wait, are you injured?!"

"Bullet" was the only response she got as Hawkeye poked and prodded the wound.

Darcy watched him for a moment, before blurting out, "What's your real name?"

Hawkeye stopped and looked up, the flashlight casting an eery shadow on his face. "Why?"

"Because continuously referring to you as Hawkeye in my head seems too formal for what I'm about to suggest."

There was a long pause, after which he finally replied, "Clint. And, I feel like I'm going to regret asking this, but what's your suggestion?"

An hour later and they were still arguing. Well, there wasn't any sort of way to tell time, but it had felt like that long to Darcy.

"Seriously, Clint, I took, like, three Home Ec classes in high school. Aced them all. I'm a professional."

"Darcy," Clint said, voice serious, "Under no circumstances am I letting you stitch me up with the pink thread you have in your purse."

She scoffed in response. "First off, pink was just a suggestion. There's also blue and black if you'd prefer. Second, you are quite literally, bleeding out, and I can't deal with that potential trauma. And third..."

Darcy never got to her third point because there was a sudden boom outside and she froze, voice caught in her throat. Then there was another, and this time it sounded distinctly like a loud stomp, crashing down onto the cars and shattered glass on the street.

Recognition flashed through her mind at the sound, even though she'd only heard it once before. In a second, she was on her feet and running to the door.

"Darcy!" Clint shouted, realizing what she was doing and trying to get up. "Stop!

"No really, it's okay," she yelled over her shoulder, dodging storage boxes and stumbling over some electronic device that was in the middle of the floor. "I know him!"

"Know... what?!" Clint asked in utter confusion. "Darcy, get back here!"

Darcy ignored the protests and swung open the door to their hiding place. The pounding she'd heard before was slow and steady, but getting farther away now, so she shouted as loud as she could. "Hey, big guy!"

Immediately, the pounding stopped and she heard "Darcy?" in the very unique (and pretty adorable in her opinion) voice of the Hulk.

She smiled. "Yes, it's good to see... or, er... hear you again." It sounded like she got a laugh in response, which she took as a good sign and with a little bit of pride in her heart. "Look, uh, Clint's hurt and we really.."

"Clint? Hurt?" The Hulk sounded, if it was even possible, worried. Then the pounding resumed, except now it was coming in her direction.

It took a little convincing to get the big, green guy to stay outside and not smash down the building. After explaining that doing so could hurt Clint even more, he'd let her go, sitting down on the sidewalk to wait because the alleyway was too narrow for him to enter.

When she got back inside the warehouse, Clint met her at the door, breathing heavily. "Are you insane?"

Darcy was not too offended by the question, because, strangely, she seemed to be getting asked that on an increasing basis lately. "Hey, I got us a ride," she replied, only a little defensive.

"A ride? With who?"

"The Hulk."

"The Hu... You know the Hulk?"

Darcy nodded before once again realizing they were in the dark and the movement was probably not being seen. She stopped nodding. "Yep. He saved my life awhile back. He and I are tight."

"Does Bruce know?"

Darcy chose to ignore his question and brought out her flashlight again, shining it on Clint's face. When he flinched away, Darcy took a moment to examine him, and in her expert opinion, he didn't look very good. With sweat beading down his temples and his skin a few shades too pale, Darcy was worried he was going to pass out.

She clicked off her light. "Listen here. You are currently suffering from a wound inflicted by a metallic robot that was an exact replica of a metallic, flying villain guy that is terrorizing the city." During their hour of arguing, Darcy had gotten the full story of how Clint had been injured, and thinking about their situation now, she tried to keep the hysteria she felt from coming through in her voice. "We have no way to call for help since my phone isn't working and all of your Stark tech is just a pile of expensive, worthless junk right now."

"Don't ever let Tony hear you say that," Clint joked, voice faint, but still not budging.

Those darn Avengers and their stubborn streaks. "Sit down and that's an order!" she shouted, before lowering her voice, cautious not to grab the attention of the Hulk and make him think something was wrong. The last thing they needed was for him to burst in here, knocking down walls. "Now, you're going to need to teach me how to extract a bullet. I'm thinking black stitches are in your future. They will fit right in with your leather ensemble." She pointed the flashlight down at his arms. "And maybe if you're lucky, I will scrounge up an Avengers band-aid to put on that small gash on your forearm that you conveniently forgot to mention."

When Clint just nodded, it was either an attestation to the effectiveness of Darcy's commanding voice or very telling as to how much pain the archer was really in. When he laid down on his injured side, lifted up his shirt and said, "Only if the band-aid is Black Widow," Darcy concluded it was the latter.

The next morning after the Avengers had defeated Doctor Doom (really, what was with these villain names?) and electricity had been fully restored, Jane found Darcy asleep on their living room couch, face buried in the cushions. While Darcy had been able to get into the building and upstairs with the backup security Tony had installed, without Jarvis she hadn't seen any way of getting into her room.

"How did you make it back?" Jane asked, relieved to find her friend safe and sound.

Darcy just shrugged her shoulders, not moving from her place on the couch. "A friend gave me a lift." There was no way she was sharing the details of what had happened. Because she liked her eardrums intact, and also because she wanted to be allowed to return outside to society and not be locked in a safe room for the rest of her life.

"Their car worked?!"

"Car? Ha! Good one Jane," Darcy laughed, sitting up and patting her friend on the back. After a brief stretch, she got up from the couch and walked quickly into the kitchen. Cinnamon rolls sounded like a good "a crazed supervillain with the power to control electricity almost killed us all last night" food to make.

"Darcy..." Jane prodded.

Darcy went to turn, then just happened to see her arms as she was reaching into the fridge to pull out the butter. Her eyes widened at the bloody scrapes she had forgotten were there, and quickly pulled down her sleeves.

"Speaking of friends," Darcy interrupted, spinning around and laying the butter on the counter. "I do believe yesterday is over and the ban on your beloved's name has expired."

Easily distracted, Jane grinned and went to speak, but Darcy held up a finger. "But don't think I won't hesitate to issue one again, okay?"

Solemnly, her friend nodded, then launched into a tale about how Thor's hammer had blasted through the air and taken out a huge army of Doctor Doom's mechanical duplicates that were being referred to by the media as "Doom Bots." Darcy thought of Clint and was enormously glad to have missed that part. Seeing the flying dude for a few seconds in action and the aftermath on the street had been enough excitement for her.

As she started the dough for the rolls, she considered telling Jane about meeting Hawkeye, but had a feeling that Clint wouldn't want everyone to know that he'd been injured. Obviously, he had an image to maintain. Plus, then Darcy would have to explain how they'd gotten back to the tower. And it would be hard to do so without mentioning that her ride consisted of sitting in the giant, green palm of the Hulk as he'd carried them almost ten blocks to Stark Tower.

So while Jane regaled Darcy with stories of her superhero boyfriend, Darcy let her mind wander to her own run-ins with a certain superhero and wondered what the green guy's human counterpart was doing right now.

So... it's been a little while, hasn't it? Do not fear mortals! (Imagine that last line in Thor's voice, please). I have not abandoned these stories or you lovely readers who have been anticipating an update. Life got in the way and it was hard to get back into this story from a writing perspective. After a really lovely comment a few days ago from Fianna_Hira, I decided that writing one of the prequels would be an easy way to dive back in. Next *fingers crossed* will be a new chapter to the main story.

If you haven't already checked out the story that started it all, please do so and leave me comments telling me how terrible I am for not having finished it yet ( /sarcasm/ - everyone has been incredibly kind and encouraging in their requests for an update).

Let me know what you think of this one-shot (un-beta'd so all of the mistakes are 100% my own).

Last note - I know Doctor Doom is usually associated with the Fantastic Four, but I couldn't help but bring him into the mix here when I realized how the name Doom tied in with the title of my last prequel (which also involves the word Doom... check it out - I know you're curious!). It has yet to be determined whether the other prequel titles will incorporate this word.