Darcy was released a few days later, with a promise to attend every one of Phil's appointments herself and to commit to her physical therapy.

Bruce and Natasha always swore to the medical team they would keep an eye on her-aka force her to do all her exercises and test her at least once a day for everything they could come up with. Darcy was pretty sure Tony had programmed JARVIS to monitor her all the time, and to call the docs if anything seemed wrong.

Darcy wasn't sure how she felt about all the mother hen behavior. Her parents had always been of the 'Let her do whatever she likes and fix her own messes' philosophy, so the overbearing attitude of the other inhabitants was something new to her.

The only two to give her a break were Coulson, who simply smiled and let her suffer through the other's concern, and Barton, because she hadn't seen him for over a week.

Ever since he ran away from her room.

He avoided her at all costs, sometimes disappearing from the room seconds before she entered. Any time she asked Phil or Natasha, they would tell her they just saw him, he was doing fine, he was still living in the Tower.

But Darcy never saw him. Once, she had heard him argue with Tony in the kitchen, and walked that way because the conversation between the both of them was far overdue. By the time she got there, Tony was staring wide eyed at an open air vent, and Barton was, again, nowhere to be seen or heard.

Darcy had huffed, and whirled around, storming off, though not fast enough not to hear Tony's cry of "This is getting FUCKING ridiculous!". She elected to ignore it. Ignoring Tony was one of her favorite pastimes. One of the billionaire's was to make her pay attention to him.

So far the score was Darcy 13, Tony 11. JARVIS was keeping it on one of the screens in the living room. He also displayed how often Natasha was able to sneak up on Tony against the number of time the billionaire was able to get a reaction out of her.

The score was 28 for the spy and 5 for Tony.

Anyway, the point was, Darcy was pampered and given pretty much everything she wanted at the moment, because Tony Stark is a big softy under the thick asshole armor. And yet, the thing she wanted the most at the moment, the ability to talk to Barton, she couldn't have. Because as much as the others seemed to think to situation was ridiculous, there's not much they can do to force a master assassin to do something he really doesn't want to do.

Darcy resented the term master assassin when it applied to a man apparently no more mature than a kindergartener. The only thing she wanted was to tell him she liked him, because she was really, really fed up of having it weighting on her chest.

And he just ran away. She knew he didn't like her and all that jazz. And she really just wanted to tell him because she hated being in limbo. She needed to be sure of where she stood.

She was trying to be a mature grown up, and he was avoiding her at all costs because he felt guilty. And because he didn't like her. And god did she hate him at the moment.

She never really understood what people meant when they said they liked and hated someone at the same time. She did now. God did she know.

She wanted to scream. She tried it. It helped a bit. Not much, because it was just basically bellowing wordlessly in the middle of her room alone, but still. It felt good.

"My, my, Cayenne, what's got your knickers in a twist?"

Uh. Not so alone after all. Darcy whirled around to face Tony, who was leaning in the door way, apparently deeply amused. Darcy wanted to go and slap him but, as great as that would feel, she would be misdirecting her anger. And she was trying to act mature and adult-like at the moment. She took a deep breath, and forced a tight smile to stretch across her lips.

"Nothing, just trying some stress relief techniques Bruce showed me."

Tony slowly arched a sardonic eyebrow, asking her silently if she thought he was an idiot. Darcy kept herself from mentioning he was, because really sometimes the billionaire could be thick. But on the present matter, he was probably more informed and up to date than she was. Since he actually talked to Barton. She swallowed her different smart-ass reply and waited for his.

He cocked his head, sizing her up.

"Barton's an idiot."

She snorted, looking away and fixing her stare on the window to his left.

"Yeah. Everyone has been telling me that. It honestly doesn't change a lot about our current situation."

Tony smirked.

"I know it doesn't. But if you want to talk with someone about stupid men who took forever to get their head out of their asses, I'm sure Pepper would be glad to discuss it with you but… He'll come around."

Darcy snapped her head back.

"Why is everybody saying that? No he won't! He hates me! You're not doing me any favors by trying to give me hope."

Tony sighed.

"He doesn't hate you, Darcy."

"He doesn't make that very obvious."

"And it was evident you loved him when you screamed at him for everything he said."

Darcy's throat tightened, and she shook her head.

"I don't love him."

Tony looked deeply skeptical, and leaned forward.

"Whatever you say, girl. Just remember he isn't the only one to blame for this."

Darcy shook her head.

"I'm trying to fix it."

He nodded and turned around, walking back to his lab.

"I know."

Darcy groaned, and let herself fall back on the bed, spread eagle, staring at the ceiling. She resented them for that. Insinuating he might like her as well. That it wasn't just her. That all he needed was a bit of time, and he would confess his undying love for her. Hope was so dangerous. It hurt so badly when reality let you down. She did her best to crush that burgeoning possibility that sprouted in her head.

She would tell Barton, and he would reject her. He would laugh at her and send her to hell, and she would be all set to brood for a few days, and then get over it.

She couldn't wait for the get over it part. But the damn archer wasn't giving her the chance to do that. If he was trying to piss her off more than he ever did, he was doing it right. Darcy needed to talk to him. Like, four days ago. She wasn't even able to ask JARVIS for updates. She wasn't sure if the AI was staying neutral or if he was on Barton's side, but the end result was the same.

She was still as helpless.

She sighed, and turned around, stuffing her head into her pillow.

She hated men so much right now. So, so, so much.

OOOOOOOOO

A few minutes later, Tony came back, peering through the door.

"Oh, yeah. I actually had a good reason to come here, other than listening to your maudlin ramblings."

Darcy flipped him off without bothering to look up. She heard him snigger, and smirked in answer in her pillow. She waited for him to elaborate. She could almost see him cock his head with his infuriating grin.

"You know, since you and the Agent are all better now, I thought we could celebrate."

Darcy did raise her head at this. She arched an eyebrow at him, urging him to get to the point faster. Really.

"You know, like a party."

Darcy sighed.

"A party?"

He nodded, amused by her deadpan tone. The one she borrowed from Phil.

"Yeah, a little something, not too big. I'll do everything, you'll simply have to enjoy it all."

Darcy rolled her eyes.

"Tony, you know parties aren't really Phil's thing. And I'm not really in the mood."

Tony sighed, and shook his head.

"Sorry, Cayenne, I wasn't asking your permission, simply advising you. I'm throwing a party, and you're both going to come."

"Tony."

He smirked, the Cheshire Cat's celestial twin. Darcy couldn't help but brace herself for his next statement.

"Clint'll be there."

Darcy groaned and fell back on her bed.

"Fuck you, Stark."

He smirked at her and cocked his head.

"See, I told you it was a good idea."

She groaned even more, shaking her head.

"Fuck you so much, Stark."

He cackled and skipped away, calling over his shoulder.

"Shut up and be grateful, welp."

She sighed, and screamed again. She amended her previous statement. She knew how she felt about Tony's helpfulness.

She fucking loved it.

She giggled, doubling over. It was so fucking ridiculous.

You can run but you can't hide, Barton!

OOOOOO

A few days later, Pepper came into the living room, with the air she sported when she was humoring her boyfriend about something. Phil and Darcy looked up, the Agent weary. Darcy had an inkling this had to do with the party the billionaire told her about. Tony hadn't mentioned it again, but Darcy knew him well enough to know it didn't mean it had forgotten about it. He simply was good on his word of organizing the thing all by himself.

But she was pretty sure Tony hadn't talked to Phil about it. That was probably good. No way the Agent would have accepted if he had known. Pepper gave them a weary smile.

"Good morning, Phil, Darcy."

The agent spoke slowly.

"Pepper."

"Tony told me you both could use a wardrobe change, so I thought we could go shopping today before I leave for Sydney."

Phil arched an eyebrow at her, but didn't find any reason not to. He looked at Darcy, nearly pleading with her to give him a reason not to go. She smiled at Pepper.

"That sounds good. But I don't really have a lot of money at the moment…"

Pepper shook her hand, and waved a dismissive hand she clearly picked from Tony.

"Don't be stupid. It's on Tony."

Darcy felt her eyes open like saucers, staring at the other woman.

"You're offering me to go shopping with a Stark's budget? I don't care if you turned agoraphobic since you moved in, but we are going."

Phil pursed his lips, but nodded. Pepper clapped her hands satisfied, smiling widely.

"Good. We should go now, before we hit traffic."

Darcy nodded and jumped off the couch, bolting towards the door. Phil sighed and followed at a more sedate pace. Pepper and the brunette shared a brief look of complicity, and turned away before Phil caught them. No way would the agent come with them if he suspected something was up.

And no way would Darcy take the chance to miss a shopping spree at Tony's expense. She also knew Phil would love to buy himself a few suits with the billionaire's money.

Phil's relationship with the engineer was still as complicated as it ever had been. With the undertone of male pride which won't admit that he actually cares about the other man. Darcy loved the undertones. She lived to make them admit their undertones. She hadn't gotten anywhere on that regard yet, but she wasn't giving up. She would accomplish her mission.

Anyway, the point was, the sick pleasure Phil would get from using Tony's money would erase any little doubts he had.

So they climbed into one of Tony's cars, the one so comfortable it shouldn't even be legal. You can't use any other car after you used one of Stark's. You were ruined for the rest of your life.

Luckily, Darcy didn't leave the Tower much. She was still required to be in a five minutes radius of Phil, so she hadn't had a lot of freedom as to where she went.

Anyway, let Darcy tell you. Shopping with Pepper Potts was a fucking magical thing. Darcy always, always had the worst time of her life finding clothes that fit her right because, hello, BOOBS! With boobs like hers, top searching was a nightmare. Either it fit over her chest or it fit over her belly. Never both.

But with Pepper Potts, suddenly, she found blouses that were perfect. That fit her just fine. She was in Top Heaven.

She considered marrying the other woman. And she said as much. The tall woman simply giggled.

"I'm sorry, Darcy, but I'm taken."

Darcy did her best not to be jealous. She really would have liked to be able to say the same. But no, she had to fall for the guy who hated her. She looked back to her reflection, watching herself in that perfect red blouse.

Maybe he would like that.

She shook herself. Who cared what Barton thought? Well she did, but honestly, what difference did it make? Honestly, Barton would probably simply ignore her all night.

She would have to corner him at some point. She would try and get Natasha's and Phil's help. She had to talk to him. She had tried to talk to him for a week.

And yet, now that she knew she would have the occasion to do so, she felt her nerves fire up. Seriously. She had to get some control over that.

She was a strong woman. She could do this. She knew how it would end. Barton would reject her, and that would be the end of it. Really.

And it wasn't as if they were close, and she was risking their friendship by making a move. No, everything was fine. It would be awkward, but it always had been, so…

Fuck. She had started hoping. Well, when everything went down, she could blame Tony Stark for it hurting so much. She hated him at the moment. And she knew why Pepper chose that day to go shopping. They would all have to dress up nice.

Barton would have to dress up nice, and Darcy would drool all over him. She hated him. Really. How dare he save her life?

Now don't get her wrong. She had a lot of time to reflect over her feelings for him. Because, yeah, she wasn't emotionally constipated and as much as she hated that she liked him, she still did. And she liked to be able to reason with her feelings.

She didn't like the fact he shouted at her. She wasn't masochistic. Really. She liked him because of the way he took care of Phil. And Natasha. For the way he did everything he could to atone for his actions while under Loki's control. For the way he did everything to be a hero when he was brought up to be anything but.

For the way he saved her life, even when he couldn't care less about her. Because he was a hero, and he didn't want to admit it.

Because he was as much of a hero as Steve or Tony, but more human, more flawed. More approachable. She wanted to see the human. The Barton under the Hawkeye mask.

And Barton was the guy that would always end up looking at her strangely, and saying something awkward that would set off another argument. The guy that would help Tony needle Bruce with that adorable crinkle around his left eye. The only person on Earth able to reason with Natasha when she was intent on something.

The only guy able to be more of a smartass bastard than Stark. The guy who would sit beside Phil while he did all of his exercises.

That's the guy she liked.

She knew it had begun with a bit of hero worship. Or a lot of it. Anyway, yeah, she knew that. But then she started to pay attention to these little things.

And she fell.

She hated herself for it. And everyone knew she fell. Except Barton.

Or he knew and that was why he was avoiding her. Maybe he didn't want to have this conversation.

But just watch her. She would do this.

Fuck her nerves. She would do it.

She was a strong woman.

If Pepper and Phil noticed that she was absentminded, they didn't comment upon it. And she was grateful for their silence.

She was pretty sure if they asked her about it, she would chicken out and run away. She bought a lot of pretty things and both she and Pepper spared Phil the torture of the shoe store.

The agent found a few good looking suits that Pepper gushed over, and that Darcy had no idea what made them any different from all the others. She wasn't an expert in man's fashion. Pepper seemed to be an expert in everything.

Phil frowned a bit when Pepper insisted that they changed into one of their knew outfits before they arrived at the Tower, but he decided to roll with it. Both Pepper and Darcy did the same, and when they entered the Tower, Darcy didn't even try to imagine what they looked like.

Probably something depraved.

Which was the exact reason she didn't want to imagine it. She just couldn't think of Phil like that. Of doing anything like that with him. It was just wrong. The receptionist opened wide eyes when they entered, following them with her eyes until they reached the elevator. Just because she could, Darcy gave her a saucy grin just before the door closed.

The receptionist started choking, and Darcy giggled as they started going up. Phil and Pepper gave her a questioning look, but Darcy shook her head, refusing to explain the situation. It would imply talking about escorts, and pimps, and everything that almost made sense in her head, but would get her a one-way ticket into an asylum if she tried to voice it.

She wasn't overly found of asylums. They looked ghastly on TV. Darcy wouldn't survive three days in an asylum.

So she elected to keep her mouth shut for once, and keep her living situation in the Tower.

Darcy didn't know what to expect when she arrive at the tower, but whatever it was, it wasn't this.

Although she probably should have, the guy organizing the party being Tony Stark and all that.

When the elevator's door opened, Darcy had no choice but to take two steps back, keeping -barely- her hands from covering her ears. Little something. Not too big.

Yeah right.

Why oh why did she ever believe Tony Stark?

The common floor of their section of the Tower was stuffed with people, most of whom she'd never, ever seen in her life. The usual lights were mostly out and flashing, colorful ones replaced them, giving the usual spacey, airy, modern living room the look of a dance club. Music was pounding so loud Darcy couldn't even fathom how they didn't hear from inside the elevator. Or how the people below couldn't hear them. The windows were blackened, faking the middle of the night.

Oh, did she mention there was people everywhere? Because, yeah. Everywhere.

There was even a skinny dude hanging out on the ceiling, apparently glued, somehow, by the pad of his hands and feet. Like a spider.

Of course Tony Stark would invite a spider dude to a party. Where is the fun in a party without a spider dude?

"Pepper, Cayenne, Agent?"

They turned around to see Tony make his way toward them, a blindingly white Tony Stark smile firmly in place as he whirled through the crowd with a practiced ease.

Phil was nearly scowling by now. Tony wrapped an affectionate arm around Pepper's waist, kissing her cheek just long enough to make a statement. Then he leaned toward the older man.

"Come on, Phil, loosen up a bit! Have fun, meet new people! I'm sure we could find you a real cellist this time!"

Phil rolled his eyes, and both Pepper and Darcy giggled. The cellist had been a running gag ever since the Agent admitted to Stark it had been a lie to stop people from inquiring and meddling with the his personal life.

Tony Stark, being who he was, took the admission as a permission to meddle with Phil's love life, to the unending horror of the latter.

"Thank you Mr. Stark. I think I'll leave you to your charming company."

Tony watched him leave with a small, satisfied smirk, and called out.

"If you disappear to go hide in your room, I'm sending Barton and Natasha to get you back."

Phil ignored him, and made his way toward the place where Bruce stood, obviously awkward and clearly forced to be there, if the way he kept shooting longing glances to the stairs leading to the lab were any indication.

Tony turned back to Darcy.

"Barton's at the bar, kid. Go get him."

Darcy shot him a stern look, but walked the way Tony indicated by a jerk of his head. Where a small reading corner once stood, Tony had managed to fit a wooden bar, complete with bartender. Darcy spotted Barton at once, talking with a weird man wearing a medieval looking blue tunic and a red and gold cape.

Darcy had to say, he didn't wear the tights as well as Steve.

Anyway, Darcy was intent on going and asking Barton for a talk, but she didn't got there.

"I don't believe we had been introduced?"

Darcy turned around to face whoever spoke to her. She was surprised she could hear anyone with music that loud, but when she faced him, she understood the proximity probably had something to with it.

She found herself face to chest, and had to raise her head so high her neck strained. The guy had to be as tall as Steve, an easy, flirtatious smile tugging his lips. She couldn't help but smile back, because yeah. Seeeexy.

"I really don't think so."

She stuck her hand out.

"Darcy Lewis. A pleasure."

He caught it, and shook it smoothly before caressing her knuckles lightly.

"Johnny Storm. Care for a dance, Darcy?"

Darcy bit her lip, cocking her head to the side.

"Johnny Storm? I think I've heard that name before..."

He grinned even more, leaning forward, whispering loudly to be heard over the music.

"Human Torch, member of the Fantastic Four, at your service."

Darcy smiled coyly in return. Yeah, that guy was good. Not as good as Barton as far as she was concerned, but he had the advantage of actually being interested in her. She shot a look to the bar, where Barton still was, and probably imagined the way his head snapped back to his interlocutor like he had just been watching her. She looked back to Johnny, thinking hard.

'Hey hottie -pun intended- just let me go over there and get rejected by the guy over , the one I'm seriously smitten with, and I'm coming right back to you. You know, so you can distract me with some dancing and possibly some rebound sex.'

But the man seem to notice she was about to decline- temporarily -his offer, and took a step forward so that their chests were touching, one of his hands coming to rest on the small of her back.

"Come on, beautiful, it'll be fun."

She didn't doubt it, but if she didn't talk to Barton right now, she would never have the courage to do it again and she didn't want to do anything with this guy while wondering about what ifs. They heard someone clear his throat behind them.

They both turned around to see Barton standing there. Johnny didn't move his hand from Darcy's back though. No matter the fact Barton was glaring very deadly and sharp daggers at the younger man. Darcy's breathe was stuck in her throat. Why was Barton there?

Maybe he knew Johnny from somewhere else. She didn't know, but Barton was kind of hot when he was angry, especially when it was at someone else than her.

"Storm."

The young man leered.

"Birdy."

Barton's jaw clenched and Darcy was a bit scared he would punch Johnny right here and now. Whatever happened before obviously had left the archer with a bitter taste in his mouth.

"I'd like to talk with Miss Lewis."

The Torch raised an eyebrow with an amused turn of the lips. Darcy was impressed at his nerves.

"Yeah, well me and Miss Lewis were going to go for a dance."

Barton took a step forward, and managed to increase his threat aura by about ten levels. Even Storm, who had so far appeared immune to Barton's scary looks, finally let her go and took a step back, crossing his arms over his chest in a defensive stance.

"Whatever man, I didn't know she was taken."

Darcy was about to correct the Fantastic Four member, but she noticed Barton was walking away. Oh well, she could get on with this later. She ran after him, fuming.

He walked into the kitchen, and finally stopped. Darcy started to rant, furious.

"What the Hell was that? You decided avoiding me wasn't enough anymore, you want other people to do the same?"

He turned around, a weird expression in his blue eyes, one Darcy couldn't understand. Not that she ever did. But she could get angry. She didn't get that. She spoke harshly, demanding an answer.

"Barton?"

He whispered brokenly, so low she nearly missed it.

"I'm sorry."

Then he took two steps toward her, cupped her face softly. Darcy had barely the time to notice the tense lines around his lips before they descended on hers.

He was kissing her.

Pause.

Barton was kissing her.

There was something wrong.

Barton was kissing her, and she wasn't doing anything. She needed to do something. She pushed back into the kiss, melting into it. She sighed, and wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling herself up.

She marveled at the strength in the muscles under her arms. She tried to enjoy the situation as much as she could. It wouldn't last. Anytime soon the archer would come back to his senses. He would push her away and blame it on the alcohol, or whatever rivalry he seemed to have with Johnny Storm.

He would push her away, and it would be done, and she would have to go on while knowing just how well Barton could kiss.

And God could he kiss. She was in heaven. After a long while, they separated, panting heavily. She looked him in the eyes, trying to understand. Trying to know.

"Barton?"

His jaw clenched momentarily.

"Clint."

She hesitated, and repeated.

"Clint. What's going on? Why did you-"

He interrupted her, breathing harshly, eyes dashing everywhere around the room, never settling on her for more than a fraction of second. He spoke lowly. He sounded a bit lost.

"Lewis. Darcy, I'm- I'm an idiot, and I'm sorry, but... Fuck, I hate this. Would you go out with me?"

Darcy pushed herself away from his arms, staring at him in disbelief. She could feel her mouth hanging open. She also felt herself unable to pick it up. He seemed distressed at her reaction, but he didn't try to reach out for her.

"Darcy?"

She shook her head, trying to clear it.

"We need to talk."

He nodded, jaw clenched so tight she feared he was going to break a tooth.

"I know. I know I've been an asshole, but please. Give me another chance."

She stared at him for a long time.

"I've been a bitch. And we need to talk."

His eyes dimmed a bit, and he nodded as he turned around. She pinched her lips, and continued in a small, shy voice.

"And I think we could do that over dinner."

He whirled back around, eyes wide and demanding. She stayed put, and he slowly walked back to her, reaching out to cup a cheek with one hand. Their words weren't anything more than a wispered breath, just loud enough to hear each other. His voice was harsh.

"Friday, seven o'clock."

She grinned slowly.

"Sounds perfect."

"And in the mean time?"

Darcy pushed forward, until she felt his breath brush against her face, coming out in small, disbelieving puffs.

"I suggest more kissing."

He grinned, wide and happy, directed at her for the first time.

"I think I can get behind that."

She hooked her fingers into his belt loops caressing his lower lip with hers.

"Come here fledgling."

He chuckled.

"I'm in so much trouble."

"Yeah, you are."

And she pushed her tongue into his mouth, reveling into the groan she earned from it.