Yeah, I partially blame 'Mischief Loves a Challenge' for this one. I seriously want to write a super-sappy and cute scene (for reasons beyond my understanding given I never write those well), so I converted that energy into this piece. Sorry if its crap.

- Illusinia

Prompt: in the future

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

Pairings: Clint/Darcy

Everything felt a little hazy to Darcy, as if the world around her wasn't a solid as it could be. Of course, on a day when her powers were acting up, the whole world could feel like a strange kind of pot high. This wasn't the same fuzziness as that though, more of a 'the world isn't physically fully formed' than a 'the world is there, you just can't see it' sensation. Not that identifying that sensation really helped anything, but it was a good thing to note.

A slight breeze danced across Darcy's skin from the open window to the simple room she stood in. Simple in the sense that it lacked copious amounts of decorative junk and bright or flashy furniture. No, the room was all dark woods, soft tans, and off whites that left her feeling peaceful. There was a nagging though, as if the peace wouldn't last long. No kidding on that one.

Not a second had passed after the feeling started before a door slammed somewhere in the house and a little girl came rushing into the room with a bow slung across her back and an arrow quiver at her side. Dark brown hair flew in wild waves around her soft face, even as a set of very familiar blue eyes met Darcy's own. The little girl practically barreled into Darcy, jumping up into her lap and bouncing like an overly hyper bunny. "Mommy, mommy, guess what!"

Darcy felt herself smile, even as she removed the bow from the little girl's back and unhooked the arrow quiver at her side. "What's up squirt? You shoot well today?"

"Yep!" exclaimed the little girl as a pair of heavy footfalls made their way in the direction of the room where Darcy lay sprawled out. "I shot almost as good as Daddy today!"

"Really?" asked Darcy, eyebrows raising high, even as her eyes turned towards the man who was currently standing in the room's doorway.

Clint smiled, pride evident on his face. "Natasha's already claiming the girl will be the next Hawkeye when I'm too old to play superhero anymore."

Darcy laughed and hugged the little girl close. "Alright squirt, go put your equipment away."

"Yes mommy!" exclaimed the child, wiggling out of Darcy's arms and grabbing both the bow and the quiver to dart out of the room.

She barely dodged past Clint, and he barely dodged the tip of her bow as she ran passed. "Careful with your bow Molly!"

"Yes Daddy!" shouted back Molly, though it was pretty obvious that she wasn't paying any attention.

He shook his head and walked into the room, scooping up Darcy before taking her seat and setting her in his lap. "She is frighteningly good with that bow."

"Hmm," hummed Darcy happily. "She's gotta be to beat her dad."

Clint looked a little sheepish. "Well, I may have held back a little..."

"I figured," assured Darcy with a grin as she leaned up to kiss him. "After all, if she'd beaten you I'm pretty sure Fury would be recruiting her already."

"Yeah," scowled Clint. "He probably would, sneaky bastard that he is."

She shook her head and pulled his own down suddenly, locking their lips together for a few moments as a distraction. When they finally pulled apart, Clint was giving her a look that said it was in their best interest to get to a bedroom. Fast. It made Darcy shiver.

"Why don't we forget about Fury for a little while?" she suggested, a bit breathless.

His mouth was on hers again as he picked her up and turned towards their bedroom. "As if the cyclops is ever on my mind when I have you in my arms. One-eyed men have nothing on my beautiful wife."

Wife, I'm his wife. The idea made her heart ache a little with a deep-rooted longing she couldn't begin to understand. She wanted to be his wife, wanted to have a claim on him. To be the only one who had that claim.

Apparently, her distraction was noted because suddenly, she wasn't pulled tightly against Clint's chest and there was a soft mattress beneath her. Most notably though was the fact that Clint was hovering over her rather than touching her. Which was upsetting in a way that wasn't actually upsetting. "Clint?"

Her voice drew his attention to her eyes, one of his hands coming up to cup her cheek. "Darce, are you okay? Today isn't one of the bad days, right?"

"Bad days?" questioned Darcy, unease filling her being. He wasn't supposed to know she had bad days. Why did he know about those?

"Darcy..." His tone was filled with worry for her, and suddenly Darcy realized what was happening. Why this was happening.

Her own fingers came up to intertwine with his. "I'm fine Clint. Promise."

A smile broke across his lips, which were back on hers less than a minute later. "If you're sure."

"Positive," whispered Darcy in return, even as she led one of his hands down her body to rest against the slight swell of her stomach. "Everything is fine Clint. Perfect in fact."

His smile was soft but bright, even as the image began to shift and fade away.

Darcy awoke slowly, aware of the soft weight of Clint's hand on her swollen belly. The place where their child rested, safe and sound. Their daughter. A smile broke across her lips and she must have made some noise because suddenly Clint was stirring behind her. One of his hands, which had been resting on her leg, slid up to cup the underside of her stomach, stroking at the soft skin just above her hips.

"Bad dream?" muttered Clint, face pressed against the back of her neck.

Darcy shook her head softly, tilting back until she could drop a kiss on his throat. "Nope, exact opposite."

"Good dream," confirmed Clint with a yawn.

"Wonderful dream," corrected Darcy as she rolled onto her back. "Hey Clint, how do you feel about having a daughter?"

He buried his face against the curve of her neck, yawning slightly. "A little girl sounds amazing."

Darcy chuckled and stroked his hair gently. "How about Molly for a name?"

"Perfect," whispered Clint, hand stroking over the swell of her stomach. "Why?"

"No reason," assured Darcy gently. "I was just thinking."

But she knew. Now, she knew what awaited them in the future. And it was as bright as any that Darcy could have hoped for.

No, this won't be the end of this little series of shorts, because I really want to write something fun where Loki is interacting with Molly. All sorts of chaos comes to mind for that.