Story of how Clint and Darcy first meet. Featuring: Coulson!

Enjoy.

Illusinia

Note: I have made a change in here for consistence's sake so the story line flows right. I've changed the one instance of 'mom' to 'aunt', which is what it was supposed to be.

Prompt: Again

From: avengers-tables .livejournal under 50-word prompt (yes, I do intent to use all 50 words)

Pairings: Clint/Darcy

The first time they meet, Darcy has pushed herself into a corner of the bar to watch everyone else pass by. She doesn't like having her back exposed. Call her paranoid, but the sensation of random people walking behind her is uncomfortable. And after the day (scratch a that week) she's had, dealing with people doing anything remotely creepy doesn't sound like fun. Which is exactly why she's made damn sure she can see the rest of the bar that night.

And is exactly why she notices when the S.H.I.E.L.D. agents appear en masse, heading straight for the bar. The noise they manage to kick up is extraordinary. For a group of people supposedly working for a secret branch of the US government, they sure as hell don't know how to keep a low profile.

Darcy lasts about ten minutes before the noise becomes too much and she is sick of fighting the urge to run. Downing the remainder of her beer, she slides into the only open space at the bar to wave down the bartender and pay her tab. Without thought, she pulls down the sleeves of her sweater so her hands are covered. No point in making it any easier to accidentally touch one of the S.H.I.E.L.D guys. She really doesn't want to know what weird information is rolling around in their heads. Check in front of her, she drops enough cash to cover the tab plus the tip before turning to leave.

Instead, a body collides with her as she passes the S.H.I.E.L.D mass, knocking her to the ground.

Glancing up with a glare, she notes that the perpetrator is standing over her with wide-eyed surprise mixed with an apology. His dark brown hair is cut short like someone from the military but with enough length that it could look messy. Grey eyes met her own blue ones and he quickly reaches out to help her up, an apology on his lips.

"Its fine," cuts in Darcy as she slides away, careful not to touch him as she stands. "Just watch what you're doing. Rough housing around drunks and all."

She dodges out the door without a second thought, a glance back, or giving the man enough time to apologize. Her head has started to pound slightly, her skin feels like its crawling with left-over power, and her body appears to be attempting to vibrate into pieces. The last thing she needs is to accidentally touch some hot guy at a bar. Besides, it isn't like she was ever going to see him again.

When they meet again, it isn't under better circumstances.

Not a week after the bar incident, Darcy is finally feeling better. Apparently, whatever weird energy the bifrost gave off that had her wanting to tear her own skin off has mostly dissipated and what little is left she can manage. Unfortunately, that happens to be the same day some crazed scientist-turned-wanna-be-villain decides that Jane's research is the creme-de-la-creme of all potentially steal-able research and attacks the lab. With giant ants that breath fire. Seriously, if Darcy didn't grow up with the family she did, she might have issues with this.

As things stand, she nearly does when one of said ants attempts to barbeque her. Lucky for her, an arrow saves the day. By punching through the ant's head. An arrow. What the hell?

She wants to ask questions, wants to look behind her and see who actually fired an arrow at a giant ant but doesn't get the time. Because suddenly there is an arm around her waist and she's being pulled up through the hatch onto the roof. Someone is touching her. Without her permission. It takes every ounce of will and control not to send the guy (definitely a guy with arms like those, dear gods...) into a fear-induced coma. That would be especially bad given he's one of the good guys.

At least, he feels that way. A nagging suspicion in the back of her mind tells her that she's felt this guy near by before. She knows there are agents that hang around the lab almost constantly, mostly in the shop across the way or on the roof of said shop. Every once in a while, she'll feel someone up on the roof too, though she's never been able to catch whoever it is. They've always disappeared when she's gotten up there, already off down the street and out of normal sight.

The arm releasing her bring back to mind the situation at hand and Darcy tries to move away from the trap door leading to the roof. She lands rather gracefully on the improvised deck but still manages to scoot back. Thankfully, Jane had been out of the lab collecting data when the attack happened so Darcy was the only one in danger. Otherwise there would be more problems to deal with. As it stands, she needs to find a way to explain why some of the data sheets are going to be a little singed.

"You okay?" asks the guy who just pulled her ass out of the literal fire.

Glancing up, she finds herself looking at a guy with military-cut but slightly messy brown hair and concerned gray eyes. And a big bow slung across his back. The eyes and hair catch her attention more though, because looking at him from her position on the ground it becomes very clear why that voice in the back of her head has been nagging at her non-stop that this guy is a good guy. He's a S.H.I.E.L.D agent, the same one who knocked her down in the bar two weeks ago. The one she ran from.

Damn karma.

"Y-yeah," stutters out Darcy. "I'm fine, just glad I'm not well-done."

Gray eyes cracks a smile. "Good to know." One of his hands appears before her, an offering to help her up. "You gonna let me help you up this time, or you gonna run away?"

Darcy shrugs and takes his hand, careful to create a barrier between their touching skin. "I guess I can let you help me this time. But if you keep knocking me on my ass, I'm gonna start thinking you like to see me on the ground."

His hand closes around hers, strong and callused but comforting. "Maybe I just like getting the opportunity to help you up."

"Or you just like holding my hand," jokes back Darcy as he pulls her up. Her legs are a little wobbly from the sudden adrenaline drain, but his arm is there to hold her up.

"Could be," he replies with a smile that crinkles his eyes a little. "Or maybe I just like getting the chance to touch you."

Darcy chuckles a little. "If that's the case, maybe you should ask me out." She doesn't know where that comes from. Especially because her dad may or may not kill her for suggesting that to a S.H.I.E.L.D agent of all people, but the man in question doesn't seem too upset.

He looks more hopeful than anything. "Are you going to leave before I get the chance to this time?"

Okay, she wasn't expecting that. "What?"

Before he can say anything else though, the trap door behind them is slamming open and Agent Coulson is climbing onto the roof. "Agent Barton, is everything alright up here?"

Darcy quickly moves away from the man, noting his last name. "Yeah, we're good. A little singed, but good."

Coulson raises an eyebrow, shooting her the 'I don't know what I just walked in on, but we will be discussing it later young lady' look she's learned to dread. Largely because those conversations are never comfortable. Which is exactly why she always makes sure to call her aunt immediately whenever one of those looks comes out. Unfortunately, her cellphone is downstairs, possibly melted to her desk. Damn.

"We're fine sir," confirms Agent Barton. "Miss Lewis appears to be unharmed."

"Good." Coulson dismisses him with a wave of his hand. "Please, help secure the rest of the building."

Agent Barton nods as well and disappears with a 'yes, sir', leaving Darcy and Coulson alone on the roof. Coulson's look changes as soon as Barton leaves, transforming into the 'I know you were up to something, now spill' look that she learned to dread when she was five. Mostly because the look alone makes you want to confess to every bad thing you've ever done. Probably why he's so good a wrangling Agents: Coulson's experiences as a father left him with more than enough tools in his arsenal.

"Well?" prompts Coulson, apparently running out of time. He has the patience of a saint when there's nothing else on his plate.

Darcy shrugs. "Well, what? I got attacked by giant ants with built-in blow torches."

Coulson sighs and moves to one of the chairs on the roof, motioning Darcy to the other. "I figured that part out, Darcy."

"Okay, so what else do you want Dad?" dodges Darcy as she drops into the other chair. "I was in trouble, Agent Muscle Arms saved me."

"His name is Agent Barton," corrects Coulson, careful to hide any discomfort he feels at her nickname for the man who rescued her. Of course, having your daughter make a remark about the physique of one of your agents had to be uncomfortable. Darcy knows this. She also doesn't care. "I meant, did I walk in on anything inappropriate."

Darcy shrugs again. "Define inappropriate."

"Darcy..."

"Fine," sighs Darcy, giving in because she knows there's no way her father will let her leave unless he's sure she's not going to end up in trouble, again. "You walked in on a bit of banter spawning from the fact that this was the second time we'd meet where I ended up on my ass. There may or may not have been some adrenaline involved."

Both of Coulson's eyebrows shoot up. "And the first time you met would be..." She could hear the warning in his voice. Despite Coulson's lack of presence sometimes in Darcy's life, no one threatened his daughter. Or pushed her around.

"At a bar the other night," explains Darcy, eyes focusing on the roof-top gravel. "I was having one of those days except it was more like a week and I just needed to be away from people but then the agents flooded the bar so I went to leave and Barton ran into me by accident and knocked me flat on my ass. Happy?"

She was careful to emphasize the 'accident' part of that statement. There was no way she was going to have her father going after some innocent (or at least not-at-fault, as her father had taught her there was no such thing as innocent) agent.

Coulson shook his head, brow furrowing in concern. "No, I'm far from happy. What do you mean you had one of those days that was more like a week? Are you not feeling well?"

Darcy rolls her eyes, rubbing a bit at the bridge of her nose. "I'm fine now. It was just something with the bifrost that upset my balance and made me feel like an over-charged battery for a week."

"As long as it's gone," sighs Coulson as he stands to look out over the scene below where the S.H.I.E.L.D agents are escorting Mr. Crazy Scientist into a black van. "I'm going to push Dr. Foster to move her work to New York once your internship is up."

"Why wait?" asks Darcy curiously. "Obviously its not safe out here."

Coulson shrugs. "I don't really want you in New York right now. I'm not fully convinced its any safer and there is no way for me to ensure that you'd have a secure place to live outside S.H.I.E.L.D."

"And my living in S.H.I.E.L.D. housing is out because if anyone ever found out I'm your kid, I'd be in danger," finishes Darcy with a sigh. "Yeah, I know."

"Darcy..." starts Coulson but she shakes her head and stands, cutting him off with a raised hand.

"Seriously Dad, I get it." Really, she does. For years she didn't, but after seeing a god fall off some kind of magic rainbow bridge (seriously, Lucky Charms anyone?) and almost getting burned to death by a giant robot, things became a hell of a lot clearer. "And for the record, you walked in on Agent Barton possibly trying to ask me out for a second time. Apparently, there was a first."

Coulson nods tightly. "I see."

Sighing, and recognizing the 'I see' for what it was, a 'our discussion is done', she turns to leave the roof. However, her foot is just lodging itself into the loop of the trap door when Coulson speaks again.

"His first name is Clint."

Darcy glances over her shoulder at her dad with a raised eyebrow. "Huh?"

"Agent Barton," explains Coulson, head turning to look at Darcy. "His first name is Clint."

A smile starts to break over her face. "Is that permission?"

Coulson shrugs with a hint of his own smile. "It's a 'I won't stop you'."

The smile spreads into a blinding grin. "Thanks Dad!"

With that, Darcy practically slides down the ladder, whistling cheerfully as she does. She knows there is probably a reason her father gave her permission to essentially date one of his agents (or at least have some fun with the guy...mmmm, arms!), but she doesn't want to question it. At least not right now. Maybe later, when her body isn't still a little jacked up on adrenaline and her mind is caught up with what happened, she'll wonder why he gave in. But until then, she's going to at least enjoy a fantasy or two about Agent Barton. Who knows, maybe she'll bump into him again and they could actually make it past that asking stage of a date.