((All this love, it pleases me. And don't worry, I've definitely got some fresh Darcy/Cap in the works for elsewhere.
...Darcy Lewis is short. She'll always be short, and this will always make writing the acrobatics of making out with superheroes...interesting.))
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Chapter 4
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"So how unprofessional is it to be -really- hot and bothered by my target?" Darcy muses aloud not too much later into her cell phone, Jane on the other end, having called for an update on her progress and to find out when she was getting her competent assistant back. There's silence, and then,
"You're asking the woman engaged to a Norse god who fell out of the sky and validated her research, Darce. I'm not exactly the expert on propriety in working relationship," She is reminded. "Though I do know enough to advise that you NOT pose that question to Coulson. And isn't Wolverine a little old for you?"
"Again, says the woman with the immortal. And I think he's a little too old for most human women, so that's a moot point." Darcy sighs, wandering around her room, tidying up. How she'd managed to trash it in the five minutes between coming back from the bar and passing out, she had no idea. She was just talented like that, when hammered. "I'm very...weird and impulsive, Jane, but this is my first real assignment since getting the badge. Even if it is cushy, I want to do well. But I also really want to be all over that."
"Would you be breaking any codes of Holy Sisterhood?"
"Marie is regularly getting her mind blown by Gambit, I think she's over her teenage crush." Darcy takes a whiff of her discarded jeans. Ahhh, the vague scent of last night's regurgitated cheesy fries. Darcy Lewis is, as her buddy Captain America would say, one classy broad.
"Mkay. Then honestly, if it gets the man happy and talking, you may actually be doing your job exactly right."
"You are SUCH an enabler, Dr. Foster." The physicist laughs.
"I try...so wait, how does Rogue have sex?"
"There's...a complicated system of body stockings involved..."
"...Do tell. For science, obviously."
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By mid-afternoon and after a shower, a thorough tooth-brushing, and more coffee, Darcy feels like some vague approximation of a functioning human. Wrapping herself up in her coat, fingerless gloves and a pair of aviators, she goes for a turn through the picturesque outdoors, hoping to get some blood flowing. Taking a path into the woods and toward the lake she'd spotted from atop the woodpile yesterday, Darcy soon spots her quarry standing at the water's edge...fishing pole in hand.
"...Not sure why I'm finding this to be so incongruous, but I am," Darcy quips, somewhat expecting to startle Logan with her rather silent approach. No such luck, though, and the big mutant just turns his head toward her, smirking once, and then turning back to the water, squinting.
"Quit stompin' through the woods like that Agent, you'll scare off the fish," He drawls, adjusting his line. The sleeves on his shirt are rolled up, despite the very distinct chill, and there's already a white bucket half full of very dead fish at his side. Darcy gives the bucket a wide berth, not quite a fan of the scent in her post-hangover conditions, moving to flop down on the grass under the trees, out of the sun.
"Ah right, forgot, your senses are all...animally," She squints behind her shades, the sun still too bright for her liking, though the brilliant blue sky was gorgeous. As were the mountains, the trees, the bears that were no doubt hanging out somewhere -in- those trees. Logan grins.
"Somethin' like that," He allows, reeling in his line as something gives it a tug. "I try not t'be obvious about it. Gets folks actin' weird." Even as he says this, though, Logan yanks a large, flopping animal out of the water and after a quick glance around, one adamantium claw shoots out of his fist, spearing right through the fish's head. Darcy lets out a low whistle.
"I was wondering when you'd flash me your metal," She grins, as he tosses the quite dead fish in with the others. Logan lofts a brow her way, and with another glance around the lake, seeing not a soul, he lets out all three on one fist with a satisfying 'snikt' and a sharp grin. Darcy can't help her little intake of breath, some weird jolt going through her belly. She's not sure when pointy objects became her thing...probably within the last thirty seconds.
"...So," She clears her throat, and his eyes squint, fixed somewhere around the pulse point on her neck. Guh, "...Before the adamantium, do you know if you still had 'em?"
"Yep," He looks to the lake again, eyes still narrowed, stance gone crouching and feral. Darcy decides that yes, she's definitely a fan. Suddenly he drives a fist into the water, drawing it out with a small, flopping fish impaled on his claws. "Ugh, see, this approach don't work so well in a lake. River, sure, but..." He tosses the runt into the bucket. "But yeah, I had bone claws before, we're pretty sure."
"...How do you make smelling like fish look good, dude?" Darcy hears herself ask out-loud, jaw a little slack, and Logan snorts, laughing.
"I don't, you're just warped in the head, girl." He rises, retracting his claws and rolling his shoulder. The difference is subtle. He'd been just as gruff, as scruffy, but the eyes had gone more intent, his expression more animalistic, sharply aware of the surroundings. Now Logan settles again, his posture more human, eyes deceptively relaxed as he sets aside his fishing pole, sitting nearby in the grass. "...How's the stomach?" He asks, sending her a sly look.
"Why do I think you can already tell?" Darcy smirks, rolling over in the grass and facing the woods, as he retracts one claw again, proceeding to gut and clean his catch outside of her line of vision, "...What exactly do you plan on doing with all that dead flesh, mm?"
"Eh, I've been droppin' 'em at the store," He shrugs, "Let 'em fry it up for their Sunday prayer meetin'."
"Wolverine, a credit to the community," Darcy smiles up at the leaves, honing in on the sounds of slicing and scraping behind her, and Logan's low chuckle.
"Fishing is relaxin', and I don't like waste," He says quietly, and Darcy shuts her eyes behind her shades, quite content at the moment with the wind and the chill and the company, "And there's only so much t'do in this town when I aint workin', case you hadn't noticed kiddo...you bored enough to skip town yet?"
"Oh not even close," She grins wide, lofting her brows meaningfully, "I've got -plenty- to do." Darcy could practically hear him shaking his head.
"This how you wrecked New York behind you? With th' cheesiest lines ever? Cause darlin', I'd believe it."
"It's totally working on you, though."
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Darcy has all of two beers that night, which at once both settles her stomach and gives her just enough of a buzz to be all loose-limbed and easy-going again, having slipped into something less than weather-appropriate, and actually swiping on some lipstick for the first time since she left Manhattan. There may be a little voice in the back of her head, asking herself if she really is dragging this "mission" out for more than just a good time, avoiding the return to the state of New York just as much as her target is. Darcy stubbornly hangs onto Jane's logic, though. She's getting the man talking, and Alaska has turned out to be far more interesting than she'd anticipated. Maybe she is avoidant. But avoidance has never been so enjoyable.
"So, what intrusive questions am I gettin' tonight, mm?" Logan asks, though he's looking far from bothered by her persistence as they lean on the bar, a hand firmly in her hair and eyes unabashedly flickering between her rack and her lips. Darcy adjusts the little black dress under her jacket, that she -may- have swiped from Natasha, grinning thoughtfully.
"Hmmm, who was your first love? Well, no," She quickly amends, "First one you can remember?" Logan sighs, shaking his head, though he still seems amused.
"The wrong gal, that's who. Didn't go so well, she was kinda in love with someone else," He shrugs, raising his beer in salute, "Died a bit ago. I held one helluva torch, though." Darcy bites her ruddy lip, wincing a little.
"Jeez, sorry hun..."
"Nah, she's fine now," He smirks at her perplexed frown, and subsequent blinking, "Married the bastard, too. I got 'em a fancy blender as a wedding gift." Darcy shuts her eyes, shaking her head.
"Wait, she died...but she's fine now?" Logan laughs, though his voice remains below the music level, in case anyone else might overhear their conversation about superheroes. Darcy's pulled in close to his side to listen, more than willing.
"She's a mutant. And I've died too," He shrugs, Darcy's jaw drops. "Well, t'be fair, I probably wasn't all dead, those times," He allows, taking a long drink, "Basically, my healin's always caught up before it got fatal, and the metal in my bones keep me from getting torn apart by most things."
"That's...insane," Darcy shakes her head, grinning, and there's a definite edge of awe to her voice, eying him up and down afresh, her tone genuine for all the shameless flirting she's been doing. "And amazing, seriously. It's too bad you don't have more cheery stories to go with the excellent super powers," She bites her lip, as he stands a little closer, meeting her eyes.
"Thought you lived with a buncha superheroes darlin', cheery stories aint really par for th' course," He points out, tucking a long, wavy lock of hair behind her ear, his rough fingers trailing along her jawline. Darcy shakes her head again, humming.
"Oh sweetie, I regret t'tell you that Stark Tower is awash in fairytale endings," She informs him, her voice gone low and husky, "...least for Iron Man anyway, who's getting married on New Years," She allows, leaning both elbows back against the bar.
"Exception that proves th' rule," He maintains, eyes wandering pleasantly again, "...And you? Leave your first love behind you in Manhattan? Mississippi?" Darcy snorts.
"Hardly," She tilts her chin up, only half-faking the proud tone when she informs him that, "I, Darcy Elanor Lewis, have never been in love," She smirks up at him, "I mean, there was Drew Perkins, in second grade. Left me for an exotic redhead. I don't think I'm over it even now," She sighs, and Logan chuckles.
"It's a royal pain in the ass," He maintains, tilting his head, looking her up and down, appreciative and slow this time, and Darcy feels the back of her throat go dry, her stomach curling in a very pleasant way. "...You're much better suited t'breakin' hearts anyway." Darcy grins, tilting forward and wrapping her arms around his neck, a hand sliding over those sideburns.
"That may be the best compliment I have ever gotten, Mr. The Wolverine."
"I aim t'please."
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At the end of the evening, when he walks her to her door and proceeds to lift her in both arms, back her up against the door and kiss her, almost prying her lips apart with that evil tongue of his, Darcy's pretty convinced that she has the best life. Then she just stops thinking for a while, the otherwise near-constant running commentary in her head silent for once, as she savors the brand new experience of a superhero going to town on her, wrapping her legs around his waist, his big hands pushing up her cotton skirt a bit as he's gripping at her thighs.
He tastes like the beer they'd been drinking, and his clothes have that comforting, lingering scent of his cigars. Darcy grips the edge of his leather jacket hard with one hand, her other arm thrown around his neck, fingers in his hair, pressing herself hard against him even though he's probably close to bending her door inward. Her teeth sink into his bottom lip, and Logan lets out a low growl, the sound reverberating somewhere deep in her gut.
Most guys Darcy has dated have been the skinny, nerdy type, and while they'll always have their charm, she finds herself responding to Wolverine from somewhere primal, pounding in her blood. She's sliding her hands everywhere, through his hair, over those thick arms holding her up, her head falling back against the door when his mouth moves to her neck. When that possessive, grinning growl leaves his throat again, just before he bites into the tender flesh just under her jaw, Darcy's brain shuts off altogether, and she's groaning, shutting her eyes, rolling her hips against his. His lips are on hers again then, one hand coming up to grip in her hair just hard enough to get her to make that needy sound again.
And then he's pulling back, smiling, letting her down gently, reaching up and pushing a hand through his hair, "...Well Darlin', sleep well." He winks, and Darcy gapes at him for a moment, before narrowing her eyes, crossing her arms. "Gotta be up early in the mornin', some of us actually work."
"...Oh, you are one smooth bastard," She breathes, leaning back against the door again, knowing she at least looks properly tousled. For all his smarmy grinning, he does look her over again, slowly, licking his lips hungrily, "You work all week, bub."
"...That I do," He feigns a pondering look, rubbing his chin as he moves down the hall, Darcy's half-lidded, lusty glare following him.
"Challenge accepted, Wolvie," She murmurs to herself, grinning.
As it turns out, Logan is only able to hold out for another day, and then just barely.
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