Despite his offering of an olive branch, so to speak, Darcy doesn't see James for nearly three weeks due to both of them working in very different parts of the Tower. Plus, she knows that he has a strong wariness of any lab, which is one of the places that she frequents the most, but she knows that she can't blame him for staying away from visiting her at her place of work. She's never actually read his file, but she totally took advantage of the files Natasha had dropped online when S.H.I.E.L.D. had fallen. She knows that Hydra really fucked him over. She understands and completely respects his decision to stay far, far away from any of the labs, even though it means she hasn't seen him since that night out in the commons.
If she's being honest with herself, she'll admit that that night had been a fluke. In fact, if that night had never happened, she highly doubts that they would've ever met outside of that first, awkward introduction that Steve had given when James had first been brought in from the cold. It's almost like high school all over again. They orbit in completely different social groups—him with the jocks (Clint, Steve, Sam, Natasha, and occasionally Thor), and her with the nerds/Scientists Three (Tony, Bruce, and Jane). Thus, no one at all can really blame Darcy for being surprised when she's in the common room one day and feels the couch cushions to her right dip low. At first, she suspects it's Thor, or maybe even Steve, with how steep the cushions slope under the newcomer's weight. Then, a shiny metal hand is reaching into the bowl of munchies on her lap to steal away some of her food, and she knows exactly who it is.
Her head whirls to the side to stare at the long-haired brunette sitting next to her, cautiously pulling his handful of stolen goods from the bowl and stuffing all of the food into his mouth. The shock that had taken over her quickly diminishes into a scandalized emotion at the sight of this. How dare he? Who does he think he is, plopping his undeniably hot person right down next to her, and then stealing her snacks? Everyone in the Tower knows that Darcy's snacks and munchies are not only sacred, but must be earned. Not just anyone gets the religious experience of sharing Darcy's Sacred Munchies of Lewis.
Even though his eyes seem to be glued to the movie, she knows he can see her righteous expression of incredulity because of the cocky little smirk tugging at the corners of his lips. The tiny, long-thought dead part of Darcy that still holds a slivered sense of self-preservation and survival rears its head and chastises her for being annoyed at a very lethal assassin who could probably easily kill her before she could blink if so chose. Of course, Darcy being, well, Darcy, simply ignores the little voice of reason. He took her snack without permission. She raises an eyebrow and crosses her arms over her well-endowed chest, a death glare aimed at his pretty little face. He just keeps his gazed locked on the screen ahead and reaches for more food. She watches as he consumes two more large handfuls of her food before throwing her hands to the sky and resigns herself to letting the assassin welcome himself to the bowl on her lap with only minimal glaring from her. She peels her eyes from his smirking, smug face to return to being sucked into the addictive adventures of the world of Middle Earth and eye candy.
He stays and watches the rest of the Fellowship with her, which is more than half of the film. When the nibbles run out, he even gets up to replenish their movie watching provisions without her needing to prompt him. How he knows where her stash of stuff is, though, she has no idea. She had thought only she and Natasha knew of the place. Even Clint doesn't know the location of her hiding place. Once the credits have begun to roll, he simply gets up and thanks her softly. What he's thanking her for, though, she has no idea. Then he's disappeared again. She chooses to not question his abrupt departure. Instead, she shrugs and begins to clean up the remains of her stuff.
Stark has someone to clean the room, so she doesn't bother to pick up all the tedious, little crumbs, only the somewhat larger pieces of food. After those have been gathered, she straightens the cushions and pillows a bit. As a last final touch, she turns off the TV, and places the remote back in its place. Satisfied with her mini cleaning job, she picks up her bowl and makes her way to the kitchen.
It's not commonly known, but when she can control it, Darcy likes organization. She's certainly not a neat freak, but she likes order, which probably explains her talent at babysitting—ahem, managing—her Scientists Three. She just likes everything to be somewhat clean looking. She makes sure her bed is at least mostly made. She either cleans her dishes once she's used them, or she puts them in the dishwasher. Even if there's a little clutter of things in one place, she puts them in a specific formation. She doesn't mind when things are out, just so long as they have some façade of order. Otherwise, if too many things are out of place, she'll get overwhelmed. It's sort of a new little characteristic that she's picked up after living through two alien invasions. Keeping things in their place helps her cope in a way, takes her mind off memories she'd rather not think about. True, Jane's lab and Tony's workshop, which are two of the places she spends the most time visiting, are practically lost causes with their miscellaneous parts strewn about in practically no pattern, but she maintains a level of control even there when she keeps them watered, fed, and clean at regular intervals. Bruce is easy. He's just like her and likes order, but is still needs her care when it comes to the simple human wumany stuff. So, she focuses on the little things that she can actually keep tidy, and not the entire lab.
When she enters the kitchen, she finds Clint sitting his ass right on the counter. He's just finishing an apple, happily chomping on the crunchy fruit. She tries to ignore his presence in favor of avoiding giving him the opportunity to make some witty remark about how he's so much better at archery than that "pretty boy elf," but his loud eating is kinda seriously hard to ignore. She makes her way over to the sink, marching right past him. He's just about to take the last bite when he catches sight of the remains of what was once in the container in her arms, and his eyes practically bug out of their sockets. If it weren't for his spyssassin reflexes, she's sure that the apple in his hand would've fallen to the ground.
A little whiny sound streams from his lips. "Aw, Darce, no. Why did Barnes of all people get the Sacred Munchies of Lewis? I thought I was your favorite."
She raises an eyebrow, an amused expression glinting in her brilliant sapphire eyes. She flashes a quirky smirk at him. Oh, really? Since when did I say that? she mouths before turning her back to him, putting the dish into the sink, and switches the sink on. She knows he can lip read fluently in English, so she knows he understood what she just said.
He huffs and throws the apple core in the trashcan. Then she can hear him slide off the counter and land on his feet. "Pfft, rude," he says before exiting the room. She rolls her eyes fondly at his retreating backside. Then she proceeds to continue the task of washing the container in the sink.