I'm too tired to write an amusing authors note on this one, so please accept a bag of puppy yawns instead. They're fresh, I promise. (Seriously, this was started on a day when I was loopy out of my mind and really probably still am so excuse any insanity).

- Illusinia

Prompt: Conversation

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

Pairings: Clint/Darcy

Darcy wasn't looking forward to this. Really, if she could get around all this, she would. It felt like a formality that could end in a fight, and that was the last thing she wanted. They both knew her time with Jane was limited, so it wasn't like he could get too upset. Right?

As her thoughts raced, the man in question came strolling into the one bar in Puente Antiguo looking as confident as the first night she'd seen him. And as hot. Damn the man, why did he have to be so cut? And why did she have to leave? Hell, the sex alone was almost worth staying for. Almost.

His eyes scanned the room slowly, even as he moved towards her table. She'd pushed herself into a corner, much like the first night they'd met, with her back against the wall. It wasn't as creepy when people couldn't walk behind you.

"I still think you're lying about the military background," commented Clint as he slid into the chair partially across from her own. She knew he didn't like having his back exposed so the second chair was pushed against the other wall perpendicular to her own.

Darcy just rolled her eyes. "I swear I'm not, but whatever. Believe what you want."

One of his eyebrows rose but he didn't comment on her short rebuttal. Normally, the two of them would banter back and forth like old friends, mostly because they could and it was fun. Tonight though, Darcy just wanted to get this over with and go home to wallow in what was sure to be misery. Conversations like this never ended well.

"Something on your mind?" asked Clint casually as he flagged down a waitress and ordered a beer. Darcy ordered a shot of whiskey. As soon as the waitress was gone, Clint turned worried eyes on her. "Darcy, did something happen?"

Her eyes fell to the coaster in front of her, fingers reaching out to fiddle with the small circle of cardboard. Apparently, she wasn't going to get her drink before they had this discussion. "We have a problem."

"Okay," replied Clint as he leaned back slowly, eyes searching her face for some hint of what was bothering her. "What's the problem?"

For several seconds, all she could do was open and close her mouth, mind uncertain how to break the news. Luckily, her patience was limited and it didn't take long for her to grow fed-up with all attempts at a gentle delivery. Rip off the bandage fast and all that. "I'm leaving."

"Okay," repeated Clint casually, eyes still searching her face for signs of something. "For how long?"

Darcy glanced up at him through her lashes, mentally trying to estimate how angry or hurt he'd be. It was impossible to say. The guy didn't exactly exude attachment or detachment in any great quantity. Well, unless they were in bed. Then there were certain things he was very attached to. Digressing. "Permanently. I'm leaving to go back to school. New semester and all that. Plus, my internship is done."

He leaned back casually, looking relaxed, but she could see the anxiety thrumming beneath his skin. His chair went up on two legs, in an attempt to look more comfortable. "So, what, we'll talk on the phone?"

Her eyes shot up to his, wide with surprise. "Wait, you want to keep talking to me?"

Clint blinked back at her like she was insane, the front legs dropping heavily against the wooden floor boards. "Yeah, why wouldn't I?"

For a moment, her mind ground to a halt. This man, this hot, sexy, and downright kick-ass guy, wanted to keep talking to her? Even though they'd be too far apart for the sexy type of fun?

She must have taken too long to respond because he started to back-pedal, body stiffening to reflect his unease. "If you don't want to keep talking, we don't have to."

"No!" exclaimed Darcy, attention drawn abruptly from the mental party dance her inner self was doing. At his raised eyebrow, she blushed and tried to formulate a comprehensive sentence. "I mean, I want to keep talking. With you. I just didn't think you'd want to keep talking once sex was off the table."

For a moment, he looked beyond confused. Like she'd just given him a paradox and he wasn't sure how to process the information. Then, his eyes lit up and he leaned forward suddenly, one of his hands covering her own. The motion brought his face inches from hers. "Darcy, did you think this was just about the sex?"

"Uh, duh," replied Darcy, even as she blinked cluelessly at him. "Dude, you're cut. Seriously cut. And cute." Clint blushed a little at that, actually blushed. The man was cocky, so why was he blushing at a little compliment like that? It was clear just from watching him walk that he knew exactly how handsome too.

"Plus you're well hung," continued Darcy, curious if she could make him blush harder. He did. "I mean, why would a guy like you even consider someone like me except for the rockin' rack? You know, beyond the age difference issue, which can swing opinion either way."

He actually winced at the last bit. "Like I said, the age thing doesn't bother me if it doesn't bother you." Something that sounded suspiciously like 'even though I feel like a dirty old man' was muttered under his breath, making Darcy giggle. Apparently, that was the intention because he continued calmly, careful to keep his eyes locked with hers. "Besides that, you're amazing Darcy. Seriously amazing. Here you are, no background in astrophysics, or any hard science for that matter, dealing with gods falling off bridges and not batting an eye."

She snorted, but the smile still played at the corner of her lips. "I tazed Thor when we first met."

"And you're willing to taze a god," pointed out Clint. "An admirable trait if you live long enough afterwords to tell anyone."

'He deserved it, added Darcy mentally as the waitress returned with their drinks. She quickly took the shot, allowing the liquid to burn her throat and warm her insides.

Across the table, Clint raised both eyebrows over his beer. "Damn drinking with you is both hot and emasculating." At her own cocked eyebrow, he elaborated. "You shoot shots like a pro."

"Dude, I'm an undergrad in poli sci," pointed out Darcy. "If I didn't know how to do shots, there would be issues."

He chuckled slightly. "Didn't realize there was a connection."

"Totally," insisted Darcy with a grin. "We have to get all the crazy out of our systems now, so when we run for office later our opposition can attempt to blackmail us. Then we blackmail them with their own college-age stunts."

"So, you do crazy things now to create a stalemate later?" asked Clint, clearly a little confused.

"Yep!" confirmed Darcy with a grin, before she dropped some money on the table and stood. "Now, I know you can chug that thing so do it. I'm only here for another week and want to get a lot of lovin' in between now and moving day."

Clint smirked and chugged his beer, setting the glass down heavily. He barely dropped his own money before Darcy was dragging him out the door. "Should I just call Coulson now and tell him I won't be in tomorrow because of exhaustion?"

The smirk she threw him almost drove him to push her against the nearest wall and kiss her silly. Then, she was pulling him close by the collar of his shirt and pressing their mouths together in a way that made his eyes cross. Seriously, he didn't want to know how she got so talented with her tongue. It could lead to a lot of dead bodies and him in jail. Or on Fury's shit list. Either one.

"It might be a good idea," advised Darcy when she finally pulled back. "I intend to wear you out tonight, and I know I'll be placing a call to Jane before we start."

Clint just growled against her throat and picked her up.

As predicted, neither of them were capable of actually dragging themselves out of bed the next morning. Thankfully, Jane didn't ask too many questions and Coulson just didn't care. Well, he did care but the suggestive language Clint used over the phone made Coulson not care. Or want to hear the word 'kitten' again. Ever.

Good, bad, burn it all down? Seriously guys, I do like to get a little feedback here!