It comes out of nowhere. It's like a flash of Thor's lightning with its suddenness, and Darcy is left shocked in the wake of his words. As far as she remembers from their interactions, nothing had led up to this unpredicted declaration. She blinks a couple times in surprise and actually pauses the episode of Doctor Who they're watching (one of the TV shows she had felt pertinent to introduce him to after she learned that he's still a huge science-fiction nerd). Then she shifts her position so that she facing him completely to turn her full, gob-smacked attention on the man sitting beside her on her comfy, worn couch. She arches an eyebrow as her way of asking him to repeat his words. Normally, she doesn't enjoy making others repeat themselves and barely tolerates having to repeat something herself, but his sudden inquisition was so unexpected that she's not entirely sure she even heard him correctly. He stays facing the screen but says it again.
"I want to learn ASL. I want you to teach me," he tells her, still not looking at her.
It's not shame that creeps up her spine; Darcy absolutely refuses to be ashamed of her modern ways. Maybe it's regret for not taking Clint up on his offer to teach her ASL when the archer had suggested it? At the time, it just hadn't seemed necessary since he had posed the proposition during the time when there had still been a slight chance that Asgard and all its technical, medical, and magical advances could find a way to give Darcy her voice back. After it had been made clear that she would never speak again, she just didn't think she'd need to learn a language that barely anyone knows when she has other options for communication. She practically always has her Starkphone so she can type out a message. If that's not nearby, which is basically never, there's always the old-fashioned, but fun, pen and paper. Even all-knowing Friday, the Tower's new A.I. since Jarvis became Vision, is an option to help her with communicating with others.
In a flash, she has her phone out I hand, and she's furiously typing out her reply and then showing him the message on the screen.
I…I can't.
Now he turns with his brow furrowed and a confused, almost hurt expression on his face to look at her. "Why?"
Yep. She definitely regrets not letting HawtGuy teach her the silent language earlier. I don't, uh, actually know it, she types before reluctantly letting him read her words, a slight touch of repentance creeping across her features sheepishly.
"Oh. Then do you wanna…" The rest of his sentence is rushed together and whispered so quietly that she's sure even a Super Soldier would have a somewhat difficult time understanding the words. She doesn't react to his question and waits for him to say it slow and loud enough for your average girl to hear and understand. He lets out a tiny huff but obliges her unspoken, untyped request. "Do you, um, wanna learn together? It could be, ya know, kinda fun." The end of his offer is punctuated with a barely there, but there smile.
A bright beam of a smile is her only answer of affirmation. It must be all he needs because his smile grows, and his eyes lighten to a soft blue.
Then a question that seems prudent to ask pops into Darcy's head. So then, do we take a class? Or use the all-knowing combination of Friday and Google to try learning—and let's be honest here, most likely butchering—ASL? Cuz, I seriously don't wanna ask Hawkass. He'd never leave either of us alone.
"I dunno. I kinda figured you'd be teachin' me. I guess takin' a class seems like the best option." He even shrugs.
Ok, she mouths, sending him a silent little laugh. Believing the conversation has reached its end, she returns her body back to its previous, movie-watching position and turns the film back to play.
Unlike their normal routine, she doesn't let him leave right as the credits across the screen. Nope. All through the film, a lingering question had been circulating around in her mind, nagging at her consciousness. This time, instead of letting him leave swiftly, she stops him with a hand to his arm, his metal arm. Sure, she's touched him before, but she's never intentionally reached out with the sole purpose to grasp his metal limb.
He looks down at where her hand is voluntary, purposefully giving contact to his metal arm with unveiled surprise radiating from his brilliantly bright eyes. Then he looks up to meet her eyes. She doesn't even have to speak. Her eyes ask the single worded question for her. Why? Why would you want to learn Asl even after you know I don't even know it myself?
The corners of his lips twitch upwards into a small smile, but he looks down at his lap, watching as he fiddles his fingers. "I, um, I thought that maybe if I learned ASL, we could…well, I thought it could be fun. Since we've already watched most of the flickers, and I'm all caught up on the Essentials of Pop Culture for Super Popsicles, it could be something else for us. You know…" he explains hesitantly, as though he didn't think she'd agree to it.
A grin spreads across her face at hearing this. Quickly, she types up a message then puts in from of his line of vision. Well, since I barely know how to say more than yes, it's a good thing we're gonna learn together!
As James reads her message, Darcy doesn't even try to stop the happy dance going on in her mind. He wants to do more than watch stuff with her! Whatever this Thing is going on between them—friendship, bosom buddies, dating—he not only likes it, but he wants more. He likes being with her and wants to be around her more. He's offering her more than just an olive branch. He's practically offering her a whole damn, fully grown maple tree!
"Yeah, together." He's smiling at her now. He's actually smiling at her now!
Before today, he'd only ever given her a half smile or a smirk. Now, she sees him fully smile, and it's beautiful. His eyes are lighter than she's ever seen, and his smile actually reaches them. Looking at the expression that's famous for being a lady-charmer of the ages, she can see and understand how he earned the title of playboy. When he smiles, it radiates to his whole body, and his whole face lights up. He no longer looks like he's got the entire fucked up universe on his shoulders weighing him down. True, it's tinged with sadness and haunted with memories of better times and worse times. Pain and loss from decades long gone taint the corners of his smile, but it's beautiful.