So here's Chapter 15, which covers Darcy's POV of Chapter 7 ('Kidnapped').

If you liked the idea of me continuing the Squib!Darcy concept, I have actually come up with a relatively detailed backstory for 'Dahlia' since posting, however, it remains just that: a backstory. I'm still not sure what to do about an actual plot. I have a few things to figure out, like what's Doctor Strange's relationship with the Wizarding World like? Same with the Asgardians and S.H.I.E.L.D. And how American magical society has changed since the 1920s (the Harry Potter Wiki says that Rappaport's Law, which was the 'you can't even be friends with No-Maj's' law from 'Fantastic Beasts', was repealed in 1965, but how does that affect twenty-first century magical America?).

DISCLAIMER: I don't own the Marvel Cinematic Universe or any of the characters contained therein.

WORD COUNT: 1245

Darcy Lewis was pissed off. I repeat. Pissed. Off.

All she wanted to do was go and get a cup of coffee. Stark Tower only had Starbucks, and there was a cute little coffee shop that, in her opinion, far surpassed that of the chain store brand. What she did not want was to be grabbed from behind and thrown into the back of a van. Or to have a gun shoved in her face. "Scream, and I'll kill you," the bulky man holding the gun threatened.

He slammed the van door shut, and went around to the driver's seat, gun still in hand, before she could find her taser in her bag (typical – whenever she needed something right now, it immediately retreated to the bottom of the bag). Then he tossed her a set of zip tie cuffs. "Put those on. Now."

Darcy glared, but with a gun aimed at her face, she disgruntledly slipped her hands through the loops in the zip ties and tightened them around her wrists. Natasha had already taught her how to slip free of these, anyway.

"And give me your cell phone."

She did so, scowling when he tossed it out the window and into a garbage can. She could only hope her friends rescued her baby before the garbage truck came.

"Now, keep quiet, and stay still. Try anything funny, and I'll shoot you."

Darcy glared at him again, but settled down. Her bag was still next to her, so when the goon turned to focus on the crazy New York traffic, she discreetly fished her taser out of the hidden pocket in her bag (as it was technically illegal to carry in New York) and slipped it into the custom-made thigh holster that Natasha had gotten her for her last birthday. She could theoretically zap him with it right now, but he was currently in control of the vehicle she was currently riding in, and who knew how many people could get hurt if they crashed? So instead, she slipped a bobby pin out of her hair and, pretending to curl up in a ball like a scared hostage, used it to pick at the zip tie mechanism and loosen her plastic restraints enough that she could slip them off with ease.

Eventually, the van pulled into somewhere dark, most likely a warehouse, given what she could see out the front window. Pretty sloppy, if she said so herself. She decided to nickname him Amateur Asshole in her head.

Amateur Asshole got out and came back around to the side door of the van, and climbed in with her before closing the door behind her. "Alright, now, here's how it's going to work. You are going to let me search you. Then you are going to tell me everything you know about our Asset. Then-"

"Fuck you."

Asshole blinked. "What did you just say?!"

"I said, fuck you! Fuck you and all your fellow goose-stepping HYDRA morons! He is not your Asset anymore, and if you think for a second that I'll betray him, you've got another-"

SMACK!

Darcy froze, a bit stunned by the sudden slap across the face. She slowly turned her head back so that she was facing the Asshole again, and then she spit in his face.

It felt great, for all of a second and a half, because that was how much time passed in between her saliva hitting him (right in between the eyes – bullseye!) and him slamming her down onto the floor of the van. "Bitch!" he snarled, pressing the muzzle his gun into her chest, "I'm going to make you pay for that!"

He started running his free hand up and down her body, apparently checking her for weapons (seriously, Amateur Asshole, shouldn't you have done that earlier?), but taking his sweet time in feeling up her curves and her chest. "Hey!" Darcy snapped, "Only one man gets to handle the girls, and you sure as fuck ain't him!"

"Shut up," Asshole growled, bringing his search down past her waist, but focusing on checking her ass, rather than between her thighs. He even ran his hand over the strap of her thigh holster, but showed no reaction. Sweet Frigga, did the Avengers already kill all of the intelligent HYDRA agents, and leave only the incompetent ones remaining?! Then he straightened up, apparently satisfied that she wasn't carrying. "Alright, now, here's my first question: which floor of Avengers Tower does the Asset live on?"

"Your mama's floor," Darcy spat, eyeing the gun pressed against her chest and noticing that the fucking safety was off (Okay, fine, Hill, it was a good idea to make her take a firearms course even though she hadn't held a gun since).

Absolute Amateur Asshole pushed the gun harder against her ribs. "You've got one hell of a mouth, little girl. Maybe when we're done here, I can see just how much-" He cut himself off with a squeak as Darcy took advantage of their position – her lying on the floor and him kneeling with his crotch pretty much directly above her knees – to hit him right where it hurt the most. At the same time, she grabbed the gun and, slipping one hand out of the zip ties, shoved it to the side before going for a punch in the face.

Absolute Amateur Asshole reeled back, giving Darcy enough room to sit up, pull out her taser, and nail him right in the chest with it. Asshole collapsed against the van's door, twitching and jerking, while Darcy pushed herself to her feet, smirking. "You really should have known better," she told him casually, "I know for a fact that HYDRA has it on record that I fucking tased the God of Thunder. Why the hell did you think I was going to be anything resembling an easy mark?"

She never got her answer, and for two reasons. One: Asshole was still screaming and crying, even though her taser wasn't even currently zapping him. And two: the van door was suddenly ripped away, and Asshole tumbled out and onto the ground.

Make that the floor of a warehouse, Darcy confirmed her initial guess, now that she could see more of the outside. And even better, standing right there was her heroically hot assassin fiancé, looking ready to bust some heads. Sadly, there were really no more heads for him to bust. Darcy would have to make that up to him later.

"Hi, babe," she greeted him cheerfully, "HYDRA needs to train their goons better. Asshole focused more on copping a feel than actually searching me. Really, you'd think they'd know enough to take your fiancée more seriously than your average lab monkey. And they only sent the one! I'm insulted, honestly." Absolute Amateur Asshole on the floor groaned, and Darcy realised that in his new position, he could now see right up the horribly professional skirt she was wearing (the dress code in the Stark Tower labs was pretty relaxed, but all her jeans were in the wash). So she pulled the trigger of her trusty taser again. "And stop looking up my skirt!"

She looked back up at Bucky, and grinned at the look he was giving her. Oh, yeah, making it up to him was going to be fun.

Yes, for those who spotted it, Darcy sort of paraphrased one of Sean Connery's lines from 'The Last Crusade'. Okay, so technically it's either two or three words, depending on how you count hyphenated words, and Darcy stuck an extra word in the middle, but it's what she was thinking of when she said it. If you haven't spotted it, give it a read.

Next up: Bedridden. A humour one, thankfully.