Summary: Darcy's having some trouble finding Brock a birthday present. So she enlists the help of Jack Rollins. If you can call his advice help...
Pairing: Darcy Lewis/Brock Rumlow
Characters: Darcy Lewis, Jack Rollins
A/N: Been working on this for a while but I'm finally ready to post it. Lots of angst right now in this 'verse so I'm going to be brainstorming some fluff because Darcy and Brock really need it for what I'm planning...
A/N2: Title from the blog Bitches Who Brunch, which also happens to be the site that helped me pick the location of brunch.
"Just buy him a knife. It's what I'm doing," shrugged Jack and Darcy paused at the entrance of Central just to roll her eyes. Next week was Brock's 33rd birthday and Darcy was at a loss of what to get him. So she convinced Jack to go to the mall with her to try and find the perfect gift. He begrudgingly agreed only after she promised that she'd treat him to lunch so he could get a good buzz on beforehand.
"I'm not gonna just buy him a knife. That's not romantic," insisted Darcy and this time Jack rolled his eyes.
"What's romance gotta do with anything? You want him to like it, right? Either get him a knife or some slinky lingerie. Simple," insisted Jack, opening the door and waiting for Darcy to walk through.
"I'm already doing the lingerie," mumbled Darcy as she walked into Central Michel Richard, where Sunday brunch was in full swing.
"Then what do you need me for? Unless you want a second opinion and if that's the case, then just say so. Wouldn't have to force me by the ear," Jack leered. As Darcy spun around to whack him on the shoulder, she saw Jack's brow furrowing the moment he stepped into the restaurant and took in the scene. His eyes absorbed the sleek, modern but warm interior and he shook his head vehemently. "Oh no. This was not apart of the deal."
"What? What's wrong with this place? I told you I'd get you food and bottomless drinks. You just have to pick a brunch drink. Central's great through. Leslie and I eat here all the time."
"Sorry pipsqueak, I don't do brunch. If you want my help, then we're going to a place where I can eat a burger, drink beer and not bask in the smell of desperate housewives who've seen better years," Jack said, crossing his arms. A few women overheard him and glared but he didn't care.
"Your balls aren't gonna shrivel up and fall off because you have brunch, once," scoffed Darcy, tugging on his bicep and forcing him to inch in so he didn't block the entrance. "Besides, you can have all that here. Their lunch menu starts at noon, they have a fully stocked bar and I've already made reservations so you don't really have a choice on the matter unless you want to hitch a ride back home."
"You're buying me bottle service on a nice bottle of whiskey," grumbled Jack.
"No, you're gonna drink your bitch drink and be grateful," Darcy countered and although Jack cursed under his breath, he didn't argue any further. Satisfied that he was caving, Darcy gave her name to the hostess but watched from the corner of her eye as Jack pulled out his phone and began texting. Soon enough, they were seated and perusing the menu but Jack kept his phone on the table. When they placed their orders, Darcy was pleased to hear Jack ordering a bottomless mimosa in a tom collins glass, as well as a pancrepe for his first course. Once their menus were taken away, Jack glared at Darcy in an attempt to make her smirk disappear.
"If I'm getting him a knife, you can get him a gun. It'll be like a set," suggested Jack and Darcy rolled her eyes with a groan.
"I'm not getting him a weapon! Besides guns are freaking expensive."
"Brock said you were rich," shrugged Jack.
"Well, I'm not. Maybe you could say my mom and stepdad are but I highly doubt they're gonna help me buy a gun for a boyfriend they don't really approve of."
"Mommy and Daddy not a big fan of Brock? I've told him he needs to work on his first impressions," clucked Jack in mock disapproval.
"They haven't met him but they know he's older than me and we've moved in together only after a couple months. So they're pretty sure he's just using me, which I guess is the general consensus of everyone we know," Darcy said with false cheerfulness, swallowing a bitter smile as she thought about how the relationship seemed destined for disaster if she considered other people's opinion's too much. Good thing she never liked being told what to do.
"Sorry, pipsqueak, but I can't say I blame them," Jack said coolly, keeping his eyes on the menu, lips pursed. He didn't see Darcy's brow shoot up. Her mind went to the fight she and Brock had the other week. Nausea welled up. Things hadn't really been the same since. Brock was a lot more reserved, distant and hardly touched her as much. Back in college, Darcy had a boyfriend who acted the same when he started cheating on her and while she knew Brock wouldn't do that, a part of her was petrified she'd read him all wrong.
"Excuse me?"
"He's never been one to settle down or move fast. It's all out of character for him and if anything, Brock's a creature of habit."
"So what? He's bound to get bored of me? Or are you saying he already has?"
"Brock's not...good with monogamy," Jack said with difficulty and Darcy's heart dropped down through her gut and lay in a bloody pile at her feet.
"I know what you're trying to do and you're not getting out of this by being a dick," Darcy spat loudly. Tables close to them grew quiet and started to watch. Although she knew Jack was blunt and often went for the offensive, she really wasn't in the mood to hear about it. But she noticed that his jaw wasn't clenching like it normally did when he lied or was nervous. The little niggling voice in the back of her head that had been whispering nonsense these past couple weeks finally screamed. Try as she might to stop it, her lip wobbled and her eyes teared up. She encountered a lot of difficulty in taking in normal breaths. At her silence, Jack looked up from the menu and saw her. His face dropped.
"What is happening?" he asked slowly.
"What the fuck do you think is happening?"
"You're….upset?"
"Yeah, I'm upset, you fuck."
"Uh, waitress? I'm gonna need that mimosa a bloody Mary here, ASAP!" Jack called out, panic shining through the cracks of his facade. He wasn't good with emotions if it wasn't something he could punch or shoot. Darcy found perverse pleasure out of his discomfort.
"I ordered a bellini," complained Darcy, using her napkin to wipe at the tears and the snot. "And her name is Rachel, you dink."
"And the bellini! Seriously Rachel, hurry!" ordered Jack, turning his attention back to Darcy. "The first two are for me. Now, why are you upset? Are you on the rag?"
"You just told me that Brock's cheating on me. I knew it. God, everyone was right. I'm such an idiot," Darcy rambled, sobbing and hyperventilating at the same time.
"Whoa!" Jack spat, somewhat shaken up at the insinuation. There was real fear in his eyes and Darcy had never seen that before. "I didn't say that. I didn't say anything like that. Don't tell Brock I told you that. He will literally kill me."
"Why? Because you spilled the beans? Are you his designated alibi or something?"
"No, he'll kill me because it's not true. I swear on my Nanna's grave that he's not cheating on you. Why the fuck do you think I said he was cheating?"
"You said he doesn't settle, then you said he's shit at monogamy. What the fuck else does that mean?"
"I just meant he's not...his normal self with you. You're not the type of women he normally fucks. But you two do more than fuck- that's a good thing. He's growing as a person or something," Jack tried to explain, trailing off with a sigh. "You really think he's cheating on you?"
"Yeah...I mean, I don't know. He's distant and hardly touches me unless I initiate it and the sex had definitely been on the decline. Plus, he's gone so much and I know it's not all missions. He's been trying to avoid me. What am I supposed to think?"
"Brock loves you, okay? He's new at this whole relationship thing and maybe he's not the best at it, but he's loyal above all else. Especially to you. Definitely to you. It's what makes everyone else who knows him nervous. You're changing him. A lot of people don't like that."
"Why?" sniffled Darcy, wiping at her tears and nose. The tears were beginning to slow. "I don't understand why STRIKE, Sitwell and whoever else at SHIELD hates me so much. How does his being with me change anything at work? It's not like I'm in cahoots with the terrorists so he's suddenly gonna side with them."
"Yeah but...you give him something to come home to. He might think twice about making the tough decisions that mean he might not make it. Every second counts."
"So what? They just want him to be miserable so he's more compliant? That's the stupidest thing I've ever heard. If that's SHIELD's policy then I really don't want to be involved," Darcy dismissed.
"Your words, not mine, pipsqueak," Jack said with more weight than she was comfortable with.
"I don't care who's fucking words they are!" Darcy snapped, earning more stares. Rachel came back with their drinks and took their orders. By the time Darcy was done with her order, Jack already finished his mimosa. Rachel gave Darcy a pitying look. When she left, Darcy tried to meet Jack's gaze. Without the menu, he'd gone back to his phone as a distraction. She wondered if he was warning Brock. Something that had been gnawing at her gut for the last week caused nausea to well up. "There's something else too. Another reason why I think Brock is…"
Darcy couldn't finish the thought. Moving his eyes up to meet hers, Jack grunted out a sound that suggested she should continue.
"Last week, he was called out on a last minute thing. You were probably with him," Darcy began and Jack nodded, obviously remembering the mission but not giving way any thoughts on it. "Well, he took longer to get home because he was getting patched up and...whatever because I had classes but then my last class was a one-on-one exam so I went home early 'cause I was one of the first to go," she explained, knowing she was rambling and from Jack's frown, he wasn't happy about that. Taking a deep breath, she trudged on shakily as more tears fell. "And so I got home, took Kraken out in a walk but after that, Kraken started barking at the front door. When I unlocked it, she ran straight to the bedroom and at first, I bought maybe Brock was home. Instead, there was some blonde bimbo lying on the bed in some trashy lingerie."
At that detail, Jack's brow rose to his hairline and his lips formed a thin, displeased line. Something warred in his eyes as he looked to his phone. Slowly, he placed his phone on the table and gave Darcy his full attention.
"What happened after that?" asked Jack. His serious tone gave her the strength to continue for some reason, even though a sob bubbled up. Just thinking about the encounter made Darcy want to just curl up in a ball and cry until her eyes and throat were raw. She tried to push it out of her head, telling herself that she was crazy for thinking Brock had made a secret booty call in their apartment. Now she wasn't so sure it was just a fabrication of her imagination.
"Well, she...she asked if I was the dog walker," Darcy said, a bitter and ugly laugh rippling out of her throat. "She asked if I knew if Brock would be home soon. Then she asked if I'd keep the dog out for a few more hours and how much that would cost."
"What?"
"Kraken kept barking at her and trying to bite her. I held her back by her collar but honestly, I wasn't trying that hard," admitted Darcy, rolling her eyes and smiling just a bit at Jack's smirk when he heard that detail. "Except, she just wouldn't leave. I told her to get out because it was my place and she didn't believe me. Or maybe she didn't care. She kept telling me to get out and mind my own business. She treated me like was the help. Eventually, I just told her that if she didn't leave, I'd let Kraken go and since it was a private property, I was fully in my right to defend myself against someone breaking and entering."
"She leave after that?"
"Yeah," nodded Darcy, taking off her glasses so she could wipe her face with her cloth napkin. Deciding she no longer cared about the whispers and concerned stares around them, she blew her nose loudly as well. "I mean, Kraken got a few good nips as she ran out though. She didn't have time to put on jeans. I also tore and threw out her jeans."
"You get a name or something? What she look like?" Jack leaned his arms on the table, all business.
"I don't know," shrugged Darcy. "I didn't asked, she didn't tell me. She had long, straight blonde hair. Really pretty. Tall, skinny, big boobs that I'm pretty sure were fake. Does it matter? Obviously, Brock is cheating on me. In my own fucking bed. Ugh, how have I been so stupid?" Moaning in frustration and pain, Darcy buried her head in her arms and let out a few more sobs.
"He's not. He really isn't. He should have told you that when you told him about that crazy bitch. She's probably an ex of his that didn't get the memo he's with you now."
"I didn't actually tell Brock about it," mumbled Darcy, guilt gnawing at her stomach. It was hypocritical of her, given she always annoyed Brock so much about telling the truth. Something about the situation just made her uneasy. She wanted to bury it in her mind and pretend it never happened, especially if it was proof that Brock was cheating on her. If they broke up, she wouldn't have a home and definitely wouldn't get to keep Kraken. It was a stupid way of looking at it but she couldn't bear the thought of this all ending in such a shitty way. Sitting up, she wiped her face again and took a long sip of her bellini.
"What do you mean, you didn't tell him about it? Someone's breakin' into his apartment. Of course he'll wanna to know about it," Jack berated. Looking up with skepticism, Darcy fixed him with an incredulous glare. "Aren't you always bitchin' to him about tellin' the truth. Doesn't apply to you, huh?"
"It's not like that and you know it," Darcy insisted.
"It kind of is," Jack shot back, picking his phone back up and texting. Rude bastard. "If you'd talked to him, he would have probably told you that it was a crazy ex of his. Hell, probably not even an ex so much as just a fuck. He has a lot of those. They're kind of his type. Sorry you had to experience it firsthand but that's the price you'll pay when dating him."
"Are you saying I'm a crazy bitch?" scoffed Darcy, a little louder than she meant to. Rachel returned with their first course. Chocolate pancrepes for Darcy and blueberry pancrepes for Jack. The course appeared faster than it normally did during busy brunch hours and Darcy had a feeling Rachel pushed their order through because she felt bad for Darcy. Or just wanted them out faster.
"No, I'm not," Jack said slowly, as if he were explaining to a very slow dog. "Though I'm beginning to rethink that assessment."
"I know you don't like me but can you at least pretend for one goddamn afternoon! You are a fucking asshole," Darcy hissed, standing up dramatically and tossing her napkin on her chair. Gasps and concerned whispers erupted around them. "I'm going to the bathroom. I don't care if you're still here when I get back. I can do this on my own, you know."
Rachel looked nervous, trying to raise her arms and gesture in an attempt to calm Darcy down. Looking between Darcy and Jack, the poor girl began to ask if there was anything she could do to alleviate the situation because if they didn't calm down, she'd be forced to kick them out. Hating the thought of being permanently kicked out of her favourite brunch place (because if things really went shit with Brock, she was going to fucking need this place), Darcy took a deep, calming breath.
"I'm sorry. I'm just gonna...go to the bathroom and clean up. I promise I won't be a problem," Darcy swore, sparing a glare towards Jack. "I'm not sure about him though."
"Yeah, sorry. She's...pregnant," lied Jack, causing Darcy's mouth to hang open. The waitress' eyes fell to the half finished bellini that was Darcy's bottomless drink choice. "I don't know why she's drinking."
"Are you calling me fat?" Darcy hissed, slapping the back of Jack's head sharply and walking away, not caring about his answer.
"I'm not calling you fat!" Jack called back in a mocking tone, causing Darcy to huff and mumble angrily under her breath. Once Darcy shut the bathroom door behind her, she let out a long, shuddering breath. More tears slipped out and she wiped at them angrily, stifling sobs that she just couldn't stop. Looking at her pitiful reflection in the mirror, she hated how feelings of inadequacy bubbled up. Her mascara was running and her eyeliner smudged from how much she'd wiped her eyes. She looked a horrible mess and she couldn't blame Brock for maybe looking at different options. At the end of the day, she was too immature and audacious. Another sob welled up and choked her.
Shaking her head in an attempt to clear her mind, Darcy took deep, calming breaths. She thought about the way Brock used to look at her, with love and adoration clearly written on his face. Nowadays, there always seemed to be lines of regret and uncertainty laced within. His embraces were always tense as well. It was killing her. She didn't want to lose Brock. She couldn't lose Brock but the possibility still loomed ahead of her. Her parents were right. Moving in together was a stupid idea.
A part of the reason Darcy was so caught up on finding a birthday present was because she hoped it would somehow reboot the relationship. If Brock saw how much she loved and appreciated him, maybe things would go back to normal. But that was a silly dream. Definitely the dream of a little girl and maybe what Darcy really needed to do was grow up.
Swallowed past the lump in her throat that was starting to feel almost permanent, Darcy washed her face until she looked passable. She blew her nose and willed the tears to stop, deciding it was time for her to face the truth.
When Darcy finally left the bathroom, she found Jack immersed with his phone again, typing furiously with a thumb and tapping a business card on the table with his other hand. Taking a deep breath, she walked to the table and sat down across from him with all the dignity she could muster. Jack's eyes rose from his phone, searching for an indication of how he needed to proceed. Silently, Darcy ignored his gaze and began to eat her pancrepes, enjoying the taste despite the horrible circumstances.
"You know, I don't even care anymore if you help me find a present. Obviously, the relationship is a ticking bomb," Darcy said stoically, only the slightest change of pitch in her voice betraying how she really felt.
"He's not cheating on you. I promise on my Nanna's grave," sighed Jack, voice tired and resigned. "He loves you more than anything. I know that because I've known him for so long. You're the...only good thing in his life right now. If you start accusing him of shit he hasn't done or just get up and leave, it'll kill him. SHIELD may be worried about you affecting his missions but I'm more worried about what he'd do if he lost you right now."
Guilt swirled in Darcy's gut again. Thoughts flew back to the night Brock came back late, grumpy and refusing to talk about his NQK mission. He'd admitted to his fears of her leaving him. Darcy never saw Brock that vulnerable before and she promised to never run from him, no matter the bad. Unless this was an elaborate plot to get her to run, which Brock was totally capable of. Still, her heart told her to believe Brock. Darcy looked up at Jack and tried to find the few tells he had that she knew of. There weren't any. At her silence, Jack continued.
"You know in your gut that he's not cheating on you. He's having a hard time right now. You need to be there for him. He's done a lot for you. The least you can do is trust him."
"You're right," sighed Darcy quietly. Tears began to prickle at her eyes again. "As much as I hate admitting you're right."
"God, you're not gonna cry again, are you? What's wrong this time?" Jack groaned.
"I'm sorry. I promise I normally hardly cry," Darcy sniffled. "It's just...I love him so much."
"Oh god," swore Jack under his breath. Rachel came back to their table to ask them how their first course was going. Darcy complimented the chef through more tears, though her voice was much more stable than before. Jack asked for five shots of tequila. Raising her brow, Darcy watched as Jack stuffed his face with his pancrepes but he didn't bother to give her an explanation. Deciding it was just more proof that Jack was completely inept at feelings, Darcy let the silence hang over them.
Rather reluctantly, Rachel placed the shots down slowly on their table. From the pitying looks she sent towards Darcy, she obviously thought Darcy needed to ditch the drunk and look at her life and choices. Knowing she'd promised Jack that he could technically could get tipsy today, Darcy sighed as she watched him down a shot then polish off his Bloody Mary like he was chugging it at a frat party. Shaking off the burn, he breathed through his nostrils and growled.
"Brock likes clean sheets when he comes back from a mission. That and good Greek food. Hummus, tabouli, stuffed grape leaves, those spinach pastry things," Jack listed, catching Darcy completely off guard. He refused to meet her eyes as he continued. "The best thing you can do for him after a mission is change the sheets, get some takeout and watch Cheers."
"So...not sex?" Darcy did her utmost to ignore the chance at making a crack over Brock, the secret agent, wanting a place where everyone knew his name. At her question, Jack's eyes rose to meet hers just for a second.
"I'm not saying no sex. Occasionally, give him a chance to wind down before you jump him. He'll probably enjoy having sex with the show on, if I'm being honest. Give him a blow job while he's watching it."
"What else is he into...sexually that is," Darcy ventured and Jack gave her an exaggerated scowl. "Don't get me wrong, the sex is still good, it's just kind of infrequent now. And all we ever do is have sex on the bed. Though, we have been coming at the same time a lot more, which is nice. And we cuddle a lot, which I also like. But we used to tear up the place and have sex on every surface. Is it me? Am I boring him sexually? I know the honeymoon phase is probably over at this point but things just seem, kind of cold even considering that."
"Okay, I made you cry so I'm gonna talk about this. Just-" Jack cut off by drinking the last four shots in quick succession. When Darcy tried to interrupt him, he raised a hand to silence her until he was finished. Taking a moment to let it hit his system, Jack breathed deeply through his nose and shut his eyes as if he was praying for strength. Eventually, he met Darcy's eyes with a serious expression. "When you're both spent, try sticking a finger up his ass."
"What?" Darcy shouted a little louder than she had anticipated and covered up her embarrassment by drinking her bellini and ignoring the stares. Obviously, Jack was fucking with her but he was not showing any of the signs to indicate he'd been lying. "Are you getting better at lying because I know you're messing with me. Which, by the way, totally not okay. I'm vulnerable here and trying to build a trusting friendship with you."
At that, Jack raised a skeptical eyebrow and Darcy huffed. "I am and you are. You're Brock's best friend-"
"We don't have friends," Jack insisted obnoxiously but Darcy pushed on.
"You're his best friend and don't deny it. I'm his girlfriend, albeit, maybe not for long, which is a fact I'm sure you love, but for now, can we pretend that we like each other?"
"I never said I didn't like you, pipsqueak," said Jack, clearing his throat and lowering his volume just a little. "Annoyed by you most of the time, yes, but I think you're good for Brock."
"Really?" laughed Darcy, not believing him. "So the ass thing? Totally legit?"
"Would I tell you something that would piss him off?" asked Jack and for a second, Darcy believed him. She wrinkled her nose because she wasn't sure she liked the idea but if it was something Brock really wanted…just it seemed a little out of character.
Her consideration was interrupted when she saw the corner of Jack's mouth rise into a smirk. Although she glared at him, Darcy didn't call him out. Fucking jackass.
"So there's the butt thing, blow job double feature…" Jack listed off and Darcy couldn't help but notice the glint in his eyes but it disappeared while he mulled over his next words. Rachel interrupted them, quickly picking up their finished plates and asking how their first course went. As soon as she left, Jack continued in a more sincere tone.
"He likes being scratched. Head massages, nails down his back and arms. Don't be afraid to leave a mark. But no more neck hickeys, pipsqueak. Unless you want me to be moving up in rank," winked Jack and Darcy rolled her eyes but didn't say anything. "Nibble his ear and that'll get him going, no matter where you two are. Oh and walk around the apartment in a short skirt with no panties."
"That's easy enough," admitted Darcy, biting her bottom lip and thinking about Jack's suggestions. They were definitely worth trying and she had noticed before that Brock really enjoyed it when she left marks on him. So she wasn't going to discount all of Jack's words as jackass hearsay just yet.
"Honestly, Brock likes feeling useful- needed. I know you're into the whole independent woman thing but let him feel like the big strong man once in awhile."
"Let him open jars or something?" Darcy asked skeptically, leaning back when their second course was set. She picked at her provincial frittata as Jack dug into his corned beef hash.
"Exactly. Stupid shit like that."
"Well, I didn't think he wanted someone who was completely useless…" pouted Darcy.
"He doesn't and believe me, he definitely gets a hard on when he sees you kicking ass at the Academy. But sometimes he needs to feel a little like a knight in shining armor, just 'cause he doesn't always look like it at SHIELD. He makes and carries out the tough decisions. You just gotta learn to appreciate that he wants to protect you. Be the one constant bright thing in his life. Give him one part of his life where he knows he's doing the obvious moral thing and that it's easy and he actually wants to. And stop freaking out about the two of you getting domestic. He needs something worth coming home to."
"Wow...that's actually really insightful," admitted Darcy, feeling dredges of guilt begin to eat at the corner of her mind over how she'd been acting and assuming.
"Yeah and the booze is starting to wear off so you got like, 15 minutes left to ask me anything you want," sniffed Jack.
"What were his other...women like?" Darcy asked tentatively, knowing full well that information may be some she would regret. Raising an eyebrow, Jack considered his next worded carefully.
"Well, crazy, as you experienced first hand," shrugged Jack. "I don't know why but crazy bitches love Brock."
"Also big-titted bimbos with a penchant for breaking into apartments," Darcy said bitterly, stabbing at her frittata and pretending it was the face of said bimbo.
"Yeah. Hot, crazy bitches. Actually, he gave me his little black book when you two moved in together. The source of some pretty great nights."
"Was I in this little black book?" asked Darcy, looking up and not knowing what she wanted the answer to be.
"Nah, he respected you too much."
"Uh huh," snorted Darcy. "Look at you watching Brock's back."
"Hey, you're the one living with him now and all the other bitches gotta break into the apartment. Take from that whatever you want," Jack said sagely, pointing his fork at Darcy. Taking a deep breath, she looked down at her torn up food and took a bite. It was delicious, as always, though she kind of wanted to slather it in ketchup even if it was super unclassy. They finished the second course in silence, Darcy considering everything Jack had told her. There was no way that Brock was cheating on her. At least, she couldn't bear to fathom that possibility- couldn't fathom her life without Brock. As much as she hated it, Jack was right about honesty. She owed Brock the same amount of honesty that she dragged out of him. Even if the consequences scared her.
Finishing her frittata, Darcy noticed Jack texting with one hand and flipping a business card through the fingers of his other hand. There wasn't much doubt in her mind that he was texting Brock. Though how much detail and warning? That she didn't know and didn't want to. It was going to be interesting to see how Brock handled the information and it would probably be really telling for her. Swallowing past the lump in her throat, Darcy tried to sip her bellini. At the end of the day, she loved Brock more than anything. So she'd have to trust that he felt the same.
"What's that card? The SHIELD hotline telling you how to deal with crazy girlfriends?"
"What?" Jack looked up in what was almost surprise. Looking at the card, he smirked. "Nah, a divorce lawyer. Guy gave it to me when you went to the bathroom. Thought I knocked you up and told me that child support could get expensive."
"No way," dismissed Darcy, reaching over to snatch up the card but Jack pulled it out of her reach.
"Nope. I'm keeping this. I may need it in the future. If you're messing with crazy bitches, you gotta have a good lawyer on hand."
"Whatever," sighed Darcy. "I'm still not getting him a gun."
"Then don't get him a gun. How about I get him the gun and you get the knife?"
"No, because I want it to mean something. Brock's done so much for me- like the Academy and finding an apartment and...I feel like no matter what I do it's not gonna add up in comparison," Darcy confessed softly.
"He did all that shit 'cause he wanted to. Don't think it didn't make him feel good. I know for a fact you two had lots of sex because of it, as well as whatever warm fuzzy feelings he've been developing," Jack pointed his fork at Darcy again and she just pursed her lips at him. "Stop countin' like it's a goddamn competition."
"But I...I love him so much," huffed Darcy, feeling the tears prickle at the corner of her eyes again. She hated how just the thought of Brock could potentially bring her to tears for the stupidest reasons.
"Hey, if you're gonna to start crying again, I'm gonna need more booze."
"I'm not gonna cry," Darcy barked forcefully. Taking a calming breath, she continued at a more reasonable volume. "You ever wonder if it's not crazy bitches loving Brock so much as him making bitches go crazy? Because I kind of feel crazy sometimes. A lot of the times, actually."
"It's possible," conceded Jack with a nod. Suddenly, he smacked his palm on the table and pointed at Darcy as a bolt of genius hit him. It made Darcy straighten up in surprise. Jack began to snap his fingers in quick succession. "Hey, you know what you could get him? That uh...that stuff from Norway. Aka-whatever. That dill vodka?"
"Akavit?" offered Darcy and Jack nodded, snapping one final time and pointing at her. She remembered that alcohol well. It was what she and Jane got drunk off of when finding out SHIELD tricked them into going to Tromso. It was also when she and Brock first met and started their relationship. Not that she would call what they began in Norway as an actual relationship quite yet.
"Yeah. Brock and I took shots of it when you were particularly annoying. We don't normally drink during missions but you really tried our patience," berated Jack and Darcy felt absolutely no remorse. They and all of SHIELD deserved that treatment. "Me because you're annoying and Brock 'cause he wanted to pound you into the mattress till you couldn't form any more words. Though, guess he did get to do that while Dr. Foster was puking on my shoes. You were pretty quiet on the plane ride back. You're welcome, by the way."
"You shouldn't have tossed Jane over your shoulder like a sack of potatoes when she'd been drinking. So that's you're fault," Darcy shot back haughtily but she dropped the pretense and smiled. "But thank you. It's actually a really cute idea."
"Ugh, just don't tell him I suggested it if you're gonna keep callin' it cute," Jack said distastefully.
"Either way, I think I'm back on track."
"So...we don't have to go shopping after this?" Jack asked hopefully.
"Oh no, we are definitely going shopping. I can't just get him liquor and lingerie," Darcy shook her head and Jack let out a heartfelt groan to Jesus. "But I am gonna hug you because you've been oddly sweet. Even if you've been an asshole most of the time, I think we've definitely bonded. This is the beginning of a...an adequate friendship?"
Standing up, Darcy walked to Jack's side and wrapped her arms around his shoulders as he scowled, refusing to accept her hug. He didn't push her away though and she decided to take it. Rachel came up with their final course: a passion fruit mousse and hazelnut panna cotta.
"Did you two make up?" Rachel asked sweetly.
"We've come to an agreement, at least," said Darcy, sitting back down. Jack grunted.
"Yeah, just gonna get an abortion," Jack nodded, causing poor Rachel's eyes to widen in horror.
"And moment over," mumbled Darcy but she couldn't say it surprised her. "He's joking. I'm not pregnant, I swear. You think I'd let this asshole knock me up?"
Rather doubtfully, Rachel looked between them and offered a forced smile. When she hurried off, Darcy sighed. She wasn't entirely sure if she'd be welcome back at Central, which was a huge shame. Hell, she'd not even had the chance to take Brock here and he at least feigned interest in brunch for her sake. Maybe when enough time passed and the waiting staff forgot about the uproar she'd caused, she could tell Jack to tell Brock that it should be a pitstop on her own birthday celebration. Or maybe she'd just tell Brock herself because trying to get information out of Jack was kind of emotionally tiring. At least with Brock, they cuddled afterwards. Besides, she needed to be an adult and tell Brock the truth, even if it meant he may not want to stay with her. Deep in her heart, she knew Brock was worth fighting for. Bimbos of all varieties and potentially terrible birthday presents included. Digging into her passion fruit mousse, Darcy smiled and for a moment, felt calm overcome her for the first time in weeks.