Darcy makes her move. Warning: this is unbetaed. All mistakes are my own. Standard warning about buggy mouse pads and missing paragraphs applies. If anyone thinks something got accidentally deleted, let me know. I have read over this, but that doesn't mean mistakes can only happen during the initial writing process.

This is the sequel to 'Again'.

Enjoy everyone.

Prompt: Risk

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

Pairing: Darcy/Clint

Another two weeks pass before Darcy gets the chance to see Clint again. Ironically, it's in the same bar as the first time they met. Also ironically, it's under similar circumstances but with two notable differences: the bar isn't as packed and Darcy doesn't feel like her skin is going to disconnect from her body and crawl away. Both are good signs.

This time, Darcy's aware when Clint enters the bar with a few other agents. Even though he hangs back a little more and kind of slips inside. She subtly tracks his energy through the room, keeping her focus on the markers that make up his specific signature. Strength, colors, emotions, depth, over-all feeling. There is a combination that is distinctly him and it's easy to spot among the others present. Everyone is an individual of course, but some people are easier to see than others. Clint is one of the easier ones.

The glass in front of her is nearly empty and she downs the rest for courage before heading to the bar. Her eyes watch him subtly as she weaves around the other patrons, glass in her hands. Somehow, leaving glasses on the table for others to clean up in the small bar always feels wrong.

Reaching the counter, she places the glass on the polished wood and waits for the bartender currently on shift to notice her. It takes less than five seconds. She wished it took longer.

The guy currently on shift is young, probably about her age and what most people would probably consider physically handsome. He's also a dick; she can see it clearly written in his energy signature. Its one of the easiest factors to spot, tinting the aura with an uncomfortable tingle.

So of course she's not particularly surprised when the first words out of his mouth sound like the beginning of a pick-up line. "Hey baby, what can I do ya for?"

Great, thinks Darcy with a sigh as she pushes her glass towards the guy. "Just wanted to drop this off." She'd been planning to order another drink, but she doesn't want to hang around at the bar longer than necessary now. Mentally, she reaches out towards Clint's energy.

Sadly, the bartender doesn't drop it. He shots her what's probably supposed to be a charming look (and might be if she couldn't see the disgusting color of orange his aura is turning) and reaches for the glass. "So another for the lovely lady?"

"Not tonight," corrects Darcy, her eyes darting up to the mirror over the bar as she attempts to locate Clint in a more physical sense. More people have come in since she entered and there's a limit to what even she can do without focusing heavily on her task. "I've got other things to do."

She's intent on trying to locate Clint visually, fighting to maintain her barriers so as not to be over-whelmed by the number of people now in the enclosed space. So she doesn't notice when the guy reaches for her until his hand is covering her own on the glass. The physical contact breaks her concentration and makes her attempt to pull away sharply (both by impulse and the fact that she just doesn't want to be in skin contact with this creep).

His hand tightens on her's, his voice trying to sooth her. "Hey, easy there babe. Chill out."

"Let. Me. Go." Her words are sharp, punctuated with the tone her mother would use if someone pissed her off enough. Throwing more energy into her barriers, she forces herself to calm down and glare at the guy instead of socking him in the face.

The guy just gives her a grin. "Maybe I will, if you give me your number. I'd like to text you later. I've asked around, it sounds like you mostly spend your time sitting in the middle of the desert. C'mon, a little interesting conversation could keep the boredom at bay." Yes, because the fact that he's practically begun stalking her isn't creepy enough to make her want to avoid him.

"Or you could just let her go and I won't have to beat the crap out of you for harassing my girlfriend," suggests a deeper male voice from behind Darcy. A different cups around her shoulder, thankfully covered by her sweater, while it's twin drops on her other side to grab the hands-y bartender's wrist.

The guy narrows his eyes at Clint and tries to pull his arm away without letting go of her's. "Hey man, back off. I saw her first. Plus, I can have you thrown out for harassing the staff."

She can't see his face, but Darcy is pretty sure one or both of Clint's eyebrows are currently raised. "Really. So, does that mean you're harassing the patrons then? All I did was grab your wrist, just like you grabbed hers."

Scowling, the guy tightens his grip on her hand a little. "I didn't threaten her. Just asked for her number."

"Two words: attempted coercion," growls Darcy. "Now, let me go before I taser your ass and leave you twitching back there with a note on your forehead for the police explaining what happened."

The dick's eyes flew back to her and for a moment he almost appeared to be considering if she would really do it or not. When she not-so-subtly reached for her purse though, his hand released hers quickly and Clint released his wrist without a fuss. Clint's arm continues to rest around her shoulders as she moved away from the bar, the newly freed hand pressed into the palm of her other one. She just hoped the slimy feeling went away quickly. Every once in a while, it was a pain to expunge foreign energy from her skin.

She thought she heard the guy say something behind them, but her mind was focused on getting out of the bar. The skin contact had heightened her sensitivity to energy, so what had before been an annoying, noisy hum she wanted to escape had turned into an over-whelming roar that she needed to get away from. Immediately.

To her surprise, Clint follows her outside, his arm remaining around her shoulders the whole time. Not that she's complaining. Clint's energy is easy to handle for reasons she can't identify. Plus, she'd rather he follow her outside so she can thank him for helping her deal with the bartender than have to hope she runs into him again some time in the future.

They reach the parking lot before either one of them says a word. To Darcy's surprise, Clint is the one to speak first. "You alright?"

Darcy nods slowly, eye's rising to meet his own. "Yeah, fine. Thanks, for the help in there. Damn bastard surprised me when he grabbed my hand."

Clint chuckles and nods, his hand not moving from her shoulder. "Yeah, I kinda figured when you didn't pull out your taser within the first two seconds of him refusing to let you go."

"Actually, I was gonna punch him. The taser thing was a bluff." At his raised eyebrow, she explains. "You can't taser someone who's established physical contact with you: you'll get shocked too."

"Okay, so why bluff?" asks Clint, his head canting slightly to the side.

Darcy makes a mental note that he's cute when curious. A part of her mind wonders if he's actually aware he does that. "Most guys aren't threatened by the idea of being punched by a girl."

He snorts slightly. "Then most guys are idiots."

A smile tugs at the corner of Darcy's mouth. "I'll assume you've experienced the flaws in this logic first hand?"

"Too many times for comfort," admits Clint with a sigh. "My partner tends to enjoy beating the crap out of me during training."

For a moment, Darcy's confused. Her confusion mostly disappears less than half a second later when she remembers what Clint's job is, but she still feels the need to ask her next question. "Work partner, right?"

"Yeah," confirms Clint with a grin. "She's a real fire-ball when pissed."

Darcy grins in return. "She'd probably have to be in order to work with a bunch of jack-booted thugs like you guys."

Clint outright laughs at that. "She amasses blackmail. That helps."

"As every smart girl should," nods Darcy sagely, taking on the voice of someone pretending to know what they are talking about. Of course, her father and mother taught her the value of good blackmail when she was five and they were dealing with a nosy neighbor who thought they weren't good parents. A few photos of the man's bondage kink that had him partnering with a woman who wasn't his wife was sufficient for making him shut up.

For a moment, neither of them says anything as they just kind of look at each other. There's no 'ah-hah!' moment in their looks, just simple acknowledgment that they are both interested in the same way. With that in mind, along with the potential ramifications of the risk she's about to take, Darcy makes her move. She leans up, resting some of her weight against his arm, and kisses him.

Its a relief when he returns the action, the arm around her shoulder's tightening and his free hand reaching out to rest on her hip. For a second, her powers flare and she just knows his memories are sliding into the cube in her mind her mom helped her construct when she was five. The feeling fades into the back of her mind though, disappearing within seconds as Clint's whole life finishes downloading into her brain. Well, his life as he saw it.

Then, she's free. Free to enjoy the press of his mouth to hers. Free to focus on the way that his one hand is squeezing her shoulder gently and the other tightens on her hip when she runs her tongue over his lower lip. There may or may not have been some faint growling on his end as well.

He pulls back after nearly a minute, resting his forehead against hers so their eyes can meet easily. His eyes are a touch cloudy with lust but there's a focus there that leaves her feeling almost exposed, like she's the one who's just had her life story downloaded into his brain. Their both breathing heavily, which means neither one can really talk.

None the less, he takes a gulp of air before pushing words out of his throat. "Should I assume that's your way of accepting my potential offer to a potential date?"

"Hell yes," mutters Darcy in return.

"Good," returns Clint as he leans close to her lips again, "because that has to have been the most intense kiss I've ever had and I'd be really sad if we couldn't repeat the experience."

She grunts a little in response and kisses him again, making a mental note in the process to be careful about her powers in the future. Feeding someone's passion can be very, very dangerous.

So, for those of you wondering (if anyone is), the last bit is a reference for Darcy's ability to manipulate and cycle the emotional energy of anyone she has physical contact with. Basically, she can increase how strong an emotion feels by drawing the emotional energy from the person she's in contact with, enhancing it, and feeding that enhanced emotional energy back into the other person. It's basically a positive version of what she did to Loki. Minus the fire.