As always, thank you to HeroInTraining for being an awesome beta. Any remaining mistakes are ones I missed on my last run-through.
Prompt: Pictures
From: avengers-tables .livejournal under 50-word prompt (yes, I do intent to use all 50 words)
Pairings: Clint/Darcy
"Happy to be back, Clint?" Clint recognizes Natasha's quiet voice in a heartbeat. Its whispered in his ear enough times during missions over the years that her voice is hard to forget.
He doesn't look back at her as he hoists his duffel onto his bed. "Eh, I'm gonna miss New Mexico a little. For all the damn sand, its not bad otherwise."
Natasha's smirk is audible. "I'm certain its not the environment that has you wanting to go back."
A hint of suspicion runs through him, prompting him to turn towards his fellow assassin. "What does that mean?" Natasha is standing in the doorway with her arms crossed under her chest and a teasing smirk that screams 'I know something' plastered across her face.
The smirk turns into a chuckle. "Someone's caught your eye."
He will deny the shiver that runs down his spine until the day he dies. "What makes you say that?"
"You've been...almost cheerful," explains Natasha with a shrug. "Plus, you hate the desert so for you to willingly state that you will actually miss a state that is largely desert at all means you must have found something worth while there. For you, that probably means a girl. Or boy. I've never been able to figure out which it is with you."
The last bit is a jab meant to draw information out of him. He doesn't take the bait. "You're assuming 'Tasha, that isn't like you."
"You also dropped this," adds Natasha as she waves a small envelope in his direction.
Clint isn't familiar with the envelope but he can recognize Darcy's messy scrawl crossing the front. Where did that come from? And how did she slip it to him without his noticing? "I don't see how that means I've met someone."
He wants to grab the envelope from her. More than anything he wants to. Darcy is more than a little random at times and any envelopes from her are bound to contain something interesting. Or potentially embarrassing for him. In the light, he can faintly make out the edges of a note within the envelope's confines.
"Who else would be passing you letters?" challenges Natasha with a shrug as the hand holding the envelope drapes over the arm crossed just under her chest. "If you admit it, I'll give you back the letter."
Because talking to Natasha about his love life sounds so appealing to begin with. "Why do you care, anyway?"
She shrugs a little and starts to finger the edge of the envelope. "I have to watch my partner's back."
Mentally he calls Bull-Shit (complete with capitals), but verbally he says nothing. Natasha is the type to track down any girl he tries to date and interrogate them. He'll be hard pressed to keep Natasha from finding out who Darcy is as things stand, he doesn't want to have her snooping around before absolutely necessary.
Something in his eyes must give something away because Natasha suddenly shakes her head and holds out the envelope for him. "I expect to meet her eventually, Clint. If things ever become serious enough that is. Clearly, you two can't be that close right now."
It feels like another attempt to get information, but Clint is careful to keep his face neutral as he takes the envelope. He just wishes the comment wasn't so close to the truth. He really doesn't know where he and Darcy stand right now, and that is a big part of why he doesn't want to tell Natasha anything. Everything between them feels like spun glass and he doesn't want anything to shatter that bond before it has time to solidify.
He glances down at the envelope, then back up to ask Natasha to keep this quiet (he's not even going to pretend she doesn't know he has someone at this point) but she's already disappeared. Shrugging, he figures she won't tell anyone except maybe Coulson (who he thinks probably already knows) and carefully tares open the inconspicuous rectangle of paper. There's a piece of computer paper folded up inside. Slipping that out, he unfolds the sheet to find a letter and another small rectangle of blank paper clipped to the bottom.
Clint,
You asked for a photo before you left, so here you go.
Enjoy,
- D
A smile drew across Clint's face as he recalled the conversation they had a few days before he had to leave.
"Darcy, do you have a photo of yourself?" asked Clint casually, attempting to keep the shake out of his words.
The brunette beauty he wanted to call his girlfriend looked up from the book she was reading to cock her head at him. "Uh, maybe? Why?"
Clint felt the blush climbing his cheeks. "Most guys like to have a photo of their girl when they're gonna be separated for a bit."
"Oh," replied Darcy even as her brow furrowed. "Why? I mean, its not like we don't have Skype or webcams."
"True," replied Clint slowly as he slid onto the couch beside her, wrapping her up in his arms. "But if I'm out on a mission, well, its one of those things I'd like to have."
For a moment, Darcy's brow remained furrowed. It relaxed a second later though when everything apparently clicked into place. "Oh, I get it. I don't have a photo for you though."
Clint managed to keep his disappointment from his face. He was leaving tomorrow and he'd been hoping to take a photo with him. "Okay, that's fine."
Of course, he could see in Darcy's eyes that she knew it wasn't. Which was why he wasn't too surprised when she marked her book and climbed into his lap. "We should give you a nice memory instead though."
The way her hips shifted against him were a dead give away for what she was thinking. A filthy smirk replaced his disappointed frown as he scooped her up from the couch. "I can completely get behind that."
Looking at the note in his hand now, Clint wonders if Darcy had found a picture she hadn't know about. Carefully, he unclips the photo to see what she had found and how old the image was. His jaw falls open as his eyes take the image in his hands. Well, that was unexpected. And definitely not work safe.
The photo is of Darcy, as she'd promised. Only she wasn't wearing anything. And sitting in a position that made Clint want to jump her right that second. If it were possible for him to get back on a plane to New Mexico, he'd be there in a heartbeat. As things stood he was considering calling Coulson to request more down time.
He didn't realize there was a phone pressed to his ear or that the device is ringing until a voice comes over the line, soothing and familiar. "Hey Clint, what's up? Already missing me enough to call?" The last bit is a joke, but he's still in too much shock to laugh.
"Always," murmurs Clint. "Especially when I have a very provocative photo of you in my hands, the image of which is doing things to my body normally only your voice can do. Well, not just your voice but you get the drift."
There's a bit of a chuckle over the line. "Like it? I know you said that normally guys take photos with them and they're probably better shots, but I didn't have anything good to wear so hopefully that'll still work."
Clint groans. "Darce, you in anything more provocative than this would make it impossible to look at the photo without blowing something. It's hard to resist as things stand."
"Then I'm doing my job." There's a smirk in her voice that reminds Clint of the night he came into his room to find her laying naked on his bed with a book in her hand. She'd given him a smirk that had him naked in under ten seconds.
He smiles faintly as he stares at the photo. "It's a great photo Darce. I love it. But, why naked?"
"Huh?" Apparently, she's confused too.
A furrow forms between his eyes again. "I mean, why did you take the photo naked? Not that I don't appreciate the view. If it were possible, I'd be on a plane back to New Mexico right now."
There's a moment's silence before she speaks again. "I thought you wanted a naked photo. Otherwise I would have given you a random one from the summer."
The furrow deepens. "Why would I care if your naked or not? I just wanted a photo of you that I could look at when I miss you and can't call. Kinda like that pocket watch I gave you."
"Oh god." There's definite embarrassment in the moan she lets out. "I totally got that wrong. I thought you wanted something to jack off to."
Clint's pretty sure he's blushing a little, which shouldn't be able to happen with his assassin-secret-agent training. "Believe me Darce, I have more than enough memories from this summer to fill that particular role. Especially from that one night in the desert. And that time you snuck into my room."
"I did that a few times." Darcy still sounds embarrassed, but there's a touch of confusion to it now.
He chuckles and shifts to phone to examine the photo again. "I know."
She's silent long enough that Clint suspects the call dropped but her voice comes through the line before he can check. "I'm sorry Clint. Do you want a regular one? I can mail it to you."
His eyes trace the contours of her body on the glossy photo paper. "It would probably be a good idea. This one isn't exactly work safe and the view is a little distracting."
Darcy groans over the line. "Perv."
"Says the woman who practically ravaged me when I walked out of the bathroom in just a towel once." Not that he hadn't done the same thing the previous night when she'd walked out in his shirt.
Apparently, she remembered that night too. "Yeah, and you did the same thing to me the night before. We're even on the ravaging scale buddy."
"Probably." Damn, he wants to be back there. This is completely unfair and no girl should make him want to run across the country like this. And yet, Darcy does. "So, work-safe photo?"
"Will be in the mail tomorrow," she promises. He can hear her shifting something on her end, then an uttered 'what the hell?' before she's back with Clint. "Hey, I gotta scram. My dad's calling for some reason and usually when he calls its important."
Clint's a little disappointed but understands. "It's alright, I can deal. Skype tonight?"
"Totally," confirms Darcy. He can hear the grin in her voice. "Sounds like you need your world rocked, even if its long distance."
"Always," agrees Clint as he shifts. Damn if he doesn't want to jump her when she starts talking like that. He's got a meeting with Coulson in five minutes! "I'll talk to you tonight."
"Later Clint," parts Darcy. He can hear the click of the line as she switches calls and hangs up on his end with a sigh.
The photo is still clutched in his hand and he's careful to tuck it into a pocket on his uniform that has a zipper so it can't fall out. Carrying a photo of his girlfriend around. He'd always seen guys in the army do that, but never dreamed he'd be one of them. Secretly, he'd found the practice a little pathetic at the time but somehow Darcy makes him want to indulge in that practice. He is so screwed.