So a big thank you to madscott and WolfenIvy who have faith that I can you know, not suck. Anyway this is a shortie because I'm still playing with plot points, but for the sake of timely-ness I wanted to add a new chapter. So The Err is human to forgive is divine... well my chapter title has a different view.
Un-betaed but not for lack of trying.
They set up a schedule, to better space out the story, to try to delay the inevitable Darcy tears. Several snack breaks, and a break for the news. They had made it to snack break two, when Clint asked what they would do if they ever actually finished the so called "mini" series.
"Well, we could watch the new one, you know, with Fassbender."
"Isn't that a bit over kill?" Clint grinned.
"But the new one is, well it's different." Reasoned Darcy.
"It's slow and heavy on the gothic. I mean I get that it's new, and it's got that jiggly hand-held thing going on.-"
"It's sexy." Darcy interjected as she grabbed two small plates from one of the cabinets. And continued getting snack time ready.
Clint opened his mouth once or twice taking in air and noting of use came out. He liked the idea of Darcy enjoying the sensuality of anything, but watching so many different versions of so many stuffy (and sometimes tension filled and sexy) of British classics gave him a thought.
"Do you really enjoy the repression, all that the tension?" Clint teased.
At that moment the fifties looking, and extremely shiny toaster gave up the goods, four pop tarts all of different varieties of sugary goodness. Clint with nimble fingers grabbed at the corners of the hot pastries, and sliding up behind Darcy placed them on the plates in front of her on the counter. Did that scent of sharp something and vanilla ever actually dissipate? Clint inhaled deeply and was awash in Darcy's vanilla imbued scent.
With Clint practically wrapped around her Darcy's ability to process diminished quite a bit. And the witty retort that was brewing in her mind ended up coming out as "gh, kind of." Thank god he couldn't see her face because she was mouthing the words MORON to herself. "It's that build up, as Frankenfuter said, antic-pation." She took out a deep breath. A decent recovery, five points to Lewis.
She tilted her head wafting the vanilla smell like a hazy aura around her, Clint took a step to the side and leaned his back against the counter. Looking at her from the side curious to see her expression as she tried to explain what she meant without stepping into an innuendo minefield.
"I'm all about instant gratification, well most of the time" She gestured to the pop tarts. "But reading, or watching things like Jane Eyre has taught me, the good points to waiting, and to savoring." Darcy
Clint smiled, grabbed the plates, and headed for the couch. Darcy had followed, though a bit behind with mugs of coffee in hand.
"Well that was fun, I hope we can repeat that weirdo exchange all the time." Darcy grumbled quietly.
