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Chapter Text

The revolving door released Darcy into the expansive lobby of the Four Seasons hotel. She took a moment to pull herself together, pushing her hair behind her ears as she searched for the event she'd been forced into. Feeling nowhere near classy enough for the marble lobby, Darcy took a breath as she searched for the promised sign of the event. Her dress a little crumpled from the cab ride, matched her tights and the aesthetic of hastily applied make-up. Jane’s absolutely need for notes transcribed right NOW had seen to Darcy’s hurry. It figured, though Jane may have brought up her recent dry spell, she’d forgotten that tonight was the night Thor made all these arrangements.

Thor wouldn't stand by and see his shieldsister unhappy or stressed out- and when he turned his hopeful eyes on her she couldn’t say no. Not to mention that missing this would mean wasting the obscene amount of money Tony had paid to get her into this thing at the last minute. "You need to get laid, short stack,” Tony had said waving a wrench in her general direction, “and I'm not fighting blondy on this one" His voice muffled by an engine as he stuck his head under the chassis of whatever his latest project was. “Besides, you have my personal guarantee that this is a classy event.”

Slinging her purse higher on her shoulder, Darcy hurried across the lobby at the sight of a tripod sign. The hotel and the understated graphics of Green Carnation Affairs seemed to confirm Tony's promise. Darcy drew herself up, putting on a veneer of confidence, “Excuse me, is this speed dating?”

The event coordinator, a slim Asian woman with cute, close cropped hair looked up from her clipboard. Her eyebrows drew together, lips pursed in vexation, "Ms. van Dyne?"

"Darcy Lewis," she corrected.

The woman’s eyes widen slightly, Tony’s wealth working its magic. The woman took a deep breath, putting on smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes. "Welcome to Green Carnation Affairs, Ms. Lewis," she said shaking Darcy's hand. "I'm Maggie Nguyen. Mr. Stark's friends are always welcome at our events." Maggie glanced down at her clipboard and at the stop watch clipped there. "We're few rotations in, but I can make this work."

Darcy held back a sigh; she would lay odds Tony's 'guarantee' involved making sure she got into this event no matter when she'd arrived or what she was wearing. Servers strode purposefully in their black vests and bow ties with silver trays of drinks through the maze of tall modular planters dividing the ballroom. Maggie waved one down, taking a glass of white wine from his tray.

"All drinks are complimentary." Darcy took a glass of red with a murmur of thanks to the server as she hurried after Maggie. There was the illusion of privacy as Darcy took her seat, back against the polished wood of a planter. She could only see one other couple but the room hummed with conversation, distinctly feminine, broken by the occasional loud laughter ringing out. "We're at an odd number of women at this point, but we'll definitely make it work." Maggie almost seemed to be reassuring herself as she piled an assortment of papers and a notepad on the table between them.

An odd number of women meant someone would have to be the odd duck out, Darcy considered, trying to find a comfortable way to perch on the barstool that would be her seat for at least the next hour. If she hadn't shown up, no one would have to be left out- or even worse- Maggie wouldn't have to join in the group of hopefuls slowly circling the room and Darcy wouldn't have to think about constantly pressing her knees together or crossing her ankles so no one glancing in from the lobby would see up her skirt.

Darcy didn't really listen as Maggie started going over the rules, focusing more on signing the few consent forms. The table barely seemed big enough for the pads they were supposed to be making notes on. Darcy pinned a number to the shoulder of her dress. This is what she'd been reduced to- a number and a ranking system? Seriously no pop-tarts for Thor.

“I don't have a number,” A blonde woman at the next table said looking over at them.

“Oh,” coordinator said startled. "We’ll need to fix that. Ms. Lewis, if you wouldn’t mind?” Maggie asked with an apologetic look.

"No worries, I think I get it," Darcy said raising her packet of information in acknowledgement. Maggie rose, leading the lovely fem towards the front entrance. Darcy found her head tilting slightly as she admired her fellow speed dater’s ass as she walked towards the ballroom entrance. The lovely blue sundress really was flattering, if ill-advised in this weather.

Glancing over, she saw a long coat abandoned over the back of the woman’s chair and her similarly abandoned date. With her leather jacket, jeans ripped on one knee, and motorcycle boots, Darcy wasn’t sure how the woman got into an event that's supposed to be as classy as Tony made this out to be. The brunette was fidgeting on her phone as if desperate for it to ring. “You look like you'd rather be having a root canal then stuck here,” Darcy said catching the other woman’s attention.

“Why do you care?” She said putting off a fuck-you vibe.

"My friends basically shanghaied me into this,” Darcy said with a shrug. “It's nice to know I might not be the only one forced into it.”

“Guilt and Obligation,” the woman stated with sympathy. “My sister insisted I ‘expand my options,’” she added with finger-quotes. “Ganged up with the woman who sends me cases sometimes to force my hand.”

“Darcy,” she said, standing up and extending her hand.

“Jessica,” the woman replied, accepting her handshake. Darcy got the feeling Jessica was holding back, strength-wise. Dykes weren't usually her type but she could see making an exception for Ms. ‘I don’t take shit’. The dom vibe was strong and it *had* been a while. Jessica’s attention jerked back to her phone as it chimed for an incoming message. Darcy made a quick pencil mark of Jessica’s number as her original date walked back up, number 26 pinned to her dress.

“See you around Darcy, Nice to meet you Katie,” Jessica said, crumpling up her sheet before strolling out the door, hands in her pockets.

"It's Karen!” the young woman said, affronted. She gripped the back of her chair, sighing deeply before looking up at Darcy, “Are you going to leave on me too?”

“Nah, though I’ll join you if you’d like. These chairs look a lot more comfortable than the stool I was given,” Darcy said. Though a bell rang as she finished her sentence, neither woman took it as a cue to move. Darcy could see Maggie rushing by to guide the next woman in line to behind another planter. “Besides I think my boss slash bestie Jane, or rather her guy, wouldn't let me live it down if I left. He can just level a deadly look of disappointment.”

“Yeah, my boss is blind and still can, just, just radiate the kicked puppy look,” she said sliding back into her seat. “I'm Karen. Karen Paige”

“Darcy Lewis,” she said taking the seat across from her. “To bosses?” Darcy proposed, raising her glass.

Karen raised her whiskey, “Bosses.” They clinked their glass, and each took a sip. "Seriously, Matt can't seem to understand billable hours to save his life.”

"Your boss?" Darcy clarified.

"Yeah. I mean, at least he's got an excuse for bad paperwork, cuz you know,” she said vaguely waving a hand at her eyes, “but still you'd think lawyers would care a little bit more.” Karen said.

“I feel like *I'm* going to go blind translating Jane's chicken-scratch.” Darcy continued the bash a boss game with a smile, “Is yours just as bad at eating?”

Karen put both hands on the table with a serious look, "Oh my god, I know, right? They seem not to understand that food comes from somewhere other than thin air"

"If they remember to eat at all," Darcy said as Karen relaxed back in her chair tucking her hair behind her ear. “Those are great earrings- they really go with your dress”

“Oh” Karen said, blushing, “thanks. I really like your nail polish- and your lipstick too" She glanced at Darcy's mouth then quickly looked down.

An awkward silence fell.

Darcy laughed, ‘We're totally doing that ‘compliment the girl, omg is she gay or not’ dance.”

“The what?”

“You know, I like your dress, but you don’t know if I said it because I like the dress- which I do- or if I’m saying that because I like how *you* look in the dress- which I also very much do.”

Karen blushed harder and started twisting the rings she was wearing, “Um, maybe? I haven’t done much, just college, and Foggy and Matt thought…" She cleared her throat, “but yeah, maybe?”

“It's totally okay. Fems are hard to read, but I totes promise you I'm definitely gay and interested' Darcy refrained from saying she wanted to muff-dive the fuck out of Karen. A girl all dressed up and made up, reminded her of college days, too.

Karen glanced down once more before setting her shoulders back, chin up, “I'm interested, too.” The bell to change seats rang out again. “Oh, that’s it. It was nice meeting you.”

“You, too.”

Darcy watched Karen ass as she walked away. She was so absorbed that she'd totally missed the next person until they clanked into the opposing chair. "Friend Darcy,"

"What the fuck?" Darcy tried to get her brain back into gear. That was Lady Sif. That was Lady Sif in full armor, vaguely clanking as she slid onto the chair Karen had just vacated. That was Lady Sif from Asgard at lesbian speed dating. The woman in question was casting a wary look about the room but seemed completely at ease in what Darcy assumed was her uniform.

Settling in her chair, she gave Darcy a warm smile. “It is good to see you,” Sif said without preamble. "Thor asked me to keep an eye on you and to make sure you had at least one success"

"What. The. Fuck.” Darcy's temper flared. “At least one ‘success’?” Her voice had gone high pitched and the murmur of conversation around the room dimmed. "That, that motherfucker. I'm going to taze him into next week.” Indignation flooded her as she reached for her purse; to hell with Tony and his money, to hell with Thor and his fucking patronizing attitude.

"Friend Darcy," Sif interrupted Darcy's move, grabbing her wrist. ‘This is not only for you, but for me.” Darcy blinked, tirade cut short by the non-sequitur. “Thor knows that I've taken...,” she paused, searching for the right word.

“Lovers?” Darcy hazarded a guess, shifting back into her seat.

“Shield maidens in the past.” Sif continued, bypassing Darcy's suggested label. ”From what he told me about this gathering," nodding back to the room at large behind Darcy, “there are many strong warriors here who might interest me, yourself included.”

“Wait, I, what?” Darcy stammered, gaping at the other woman.

Sif gave her an appraising look, hand loosening on Darcy's wrist. "I understand you took down Thor, a feat in and of itself, but also stood tall against Malekith and the Dark Elves," she continued, moving from Darcy's wrist to hold her hand, tracing the skin there with her thumb. Sif's hand was warmer than Darcy had expected, with rough, oddly placed calluses from sword fighting. "I'd be pleased to take you out for mead and further discussions?" Darcy watched Sif give her another obvious once over, radiating satisfaction. Her eyes had gone a bit darker, more predatory.

"I," speechless, Darcy found herself flushing under Sif's combination of hot and scary. "How about we start on mead now?” She said, signaling the waiter. The drinks arrived faster than she thought possible, letting her sip her drink as Sif took over the conversation. Darcy found herself swept up in the storytelling; The Asgardian politics behind New Mexico, Thor’s battles in other realms, and Sif working with a small band of SHIELD agents.

“To daring friends,” Sif pounded back her drink. Darcy followed, choking on the too sweet mead. If they were going to keep drinking like this, she thought, the bell couldn't ring soon enough. Then, as if in answer, the bell sounded through the hall. Sif took her hand again and laid a brief kiss upon it, “I hope to see you again soon, Friend Darcy.” And with that, she was gone, leaving Darcy to circle her number on the note pad.

That next bell brought another blonde to her table, but this woman was more confident than Karen and her suit screamed soft butch. "Hi, I'm Darcy," she said offering her hand.

"Sharon, Nice to meet you." They shook and locked eyes. Sharon’s were a deep brown and held her gaze for just a little too long. Disconcerted, Darcy broke off the handshake and focused on shifting around the small pile of paper in front of her. Sharon’s grip hadn't felt Asgardian and her grey suit was definitely not hiding a suit of armor; maybe the evening would be normal from here on out.

Sharon sat and tapped the edge of her papers against the table, settling them into a neat stack. “So, Darcy," she said glancing down at some of the sample questions, "what are some of your hobbies?”

“Let’s see...making excellent playlists,” Darcy said off the top of her head. “Surfing tumblr probably doesn't count as a hobby. Fetching coffee for absent minded scientists? Though that's more my job.” She tried to resist the urge to let her eyes fall to her own sheet of questions. “What about you? What do you do?"

"If I told you I'd have to kill you." Darcy’s eyes went wide. She was about two seconds from changing her mind again and saying screw this. Sharon caught the look on her face and put her hands up defensively, "Crap, no, I'm sorry, bad joke, I do work for the CIA, but I'm the new person on staff- no 007 stuff for me.”

Darcy tried to relax her tense shoulders, “Ok, cuz I’m so not down with being pussy galore.”

Sharon gave a half smile, but didn’t comment on the joke. "I just moved from DC and a friend signed me up for this to meet new people.”

“You too?” Darcy asked. Was everyone here being harangued into this?

“Me too?” Sharon said with a confused tilt of her head. Darcy found it kind of adorable.

“My friends wrangled me into this,” Darcy waved her hand to the room at large. “Dry spell and they meddle.”

Sharon played with the pendant on her necklace, “Less meddling for me. More just...bringing it on my radar. So,” she continued, leaving her necklace alone, “want to try to tick some boxes?”

Darcy snorted. Her inner twelve-year-old couldn’t help but make ‘tick some boxes’ dirty.

“On the page,” Sharon clarified, crossed between amused and still trying to be professional. Darcy wondered if she fucked like she was following a manual.

“Okay, let’s tick some boxes,” Darcy said, clicking her pen.

Going through the checklist turned out to be kind of fun and they did have some common ground. Darcy hadn’t found someone who knew who Piñata Protest was, let alone thought accordion belonged in punk.

“Not to mention Gogol Bordello- “ Sharon was saying as the bell rang. “Oh, well, it was nice meeting you Darcy,” she said, extending her hand.

“You too,” Darcy said. They shook again, without the awkward stare this time. While it had felt more like an interview than the previous women Darcy gave an internal what the hell and circled her number, too.

Her new companion was a red head, Darcy noted tracing lines in the condensation on her glass. She’d paused to talk to Maggie on her way over giving Darcy a chance to look her over from behind. Slim, fantastic ass, and in a suit well-tailored to show off her figure. “Holy shit,” Darcy said softly as the woman turned around. It was Natasha Romanoff, the Black Widow. She had a smirk on her face as if she knew Darcy had been checking her out. Hell, she probably *did* know- damn super spies.

“Fancy meeting you here, Darcy,” Natasha said spinning the chair around to straddle it. “How are your dates going so far?”

“Um, good?” Darcy said, her brain clashing between intimidated and confused by the Black Widow’s conversational tone.

“You seem to have a lot of circles so far,” she nodded toward the pad in front of Darcy.

“Oh,” Darcy said, grabbing the paper to hide her marks, “yeah.” She could feel a blush creep up her cheeks, even though she had nothing to be embarrassed about. This wouldn’t do at all, “You know why lesbians can't be fighters?” Darcy paused for a moment, “They think this is a fist.” She brought all her fingers together, making her hand into a teardrop shape.

Natasha let out a surprised bark of laughter. Darcy felt a warm glow from making her laugh, a real smile that made her eyes crinkle.

"Tell me about you, Darcy," she said, still smiling.

"Don't you have a file on me somewhere?" Darcy countered.

"Maybe," said Natasha teasingly, "but it's still better to hear things direct from the source."

Darcy put on her worst Russian accent, "Ve have vays of making you talk, comrade"

"In Soviet Russia, dating speeds you," Natasha replied in a much more accurate accent.

Darcy blinked, "What?"

Her companion gave a sly smile and a shrug, "Makes sense in Russian."

"Now, why don't I believe you?" Darcy said. The conversation flowed easy from there; Natasha seemed to know just how to draw Darcy back into conversation. She found herself talking about Culver and Jane, then Thor. Natasha commented that the Asgardians weren’t impossible to deal with, just required a bit of creative handling. “Are the rumors about you interrogating Loki true?” Darcy asked.

“Depends on the rumors,” she replied. “Men don’t take us 100% seriously, which can easily be used as a strength. Loki had a superiority complex a mile high- it wasn’t hard to get him to talk.”

“If that was easy then I need hella practice,” Darcy said.

“I’d be happy to get together and give you some pointers,” Natasha offered.

“I’d like that,” Darcy said with a smile. They both looked up as the bell rang out.

"Nice getting to know you, Darcy," Natasha said, standing and turning the chair back around.

“You too,” and with that, Darcy added another mark to her page.

Darcy's jaw dropped as she saw the next woman approaching her table, "She-hulk?" she said looking up then up some more. At nearly 7 feet tall, the emerald green woman dwarfed the table and chairs. Her tight jeans and purple and white silk blouse must have been tailor-made.

“I see my reputation precedes me,” she said, offering her hand. “Jennifer Walters, attorney and occasional superhero.”

“Darcy Lewis, scientist wrangler and, um, friend of superheroes?”

Jennifer laughed. It was obviously the big booming laugh Darcy had heard walking in. “You must be the intern that works with my cousin, Bruce. It’s good to meet you.”

“I, I didn’t-,“ Darcy started to say. She hadn’t realized more of the Avengers knew about this night out. “I mean, I didn’t know you were you were interested in women?”

“The paparazzi aren’t exactly wise to anything more than gals being pals, so they focus more on the men I’ve dated,” Jennifer explained. “Bruce mentioned he had a friend coming to this and it might be fun for me to come as well. It's not easy being green when it comes to dating.”

"Everyone thinks you've a bad case of envy?' Darcy said, smiling.

Another laugh. “Definitely the reason-“ Jennifer said with a wry grin, "currently envious of your mega-watt smile.” Darcy’s eyes widened before she ducked her head to hide her blush.

Jennifer leaned in, fingers laced together in front of her on the table. "I'll tell you a secret, though you may have guessed by now." Darcy found herself leaning in too, "the event tonight is for those of us in and around the superhero crowd." She moved her hand to stroke along the underside of Darcy's jaw. “So I'm very curious to find out more about you, Ms. Lewis."

Darcy's breath hitched. "Uh," she stammered, not used to such a direct advance, "I'm, well, just a friend…"

Another grin slowly spreading across Jennifer’s face. "Think about it," she said before leaning back, “So my cousin mentioned that an intern has made his life with Stark infinitely better, that’s you, right?”

"Me?” Darcy said, trying not to be flustered by the sudden shift of topic. “Um, yeah- scientist wrangler extraordinaire. Tony… he can be a handful.” The conversation flowed easily to scientist misadventures, stories about a younger Bruce before his necessary heart rate monitor, and some of their evil villain encounters.

At the sound of the bell, Jennifer offered her hand, “It was nice meeting you, Darcy.”

“You too,” Darcy said as they shook with surprising gentleness.

***

“You did what?!”

“My lady Jane found the notes you made from your evening of brief courting. I merely made arrangements so you wouldn't 'chicken out’” Thor said, attention focused on the bacon he was flipping. “I took the liberty to print you a calendar.” He waved the spatula in the general direction of the kitchen table.

Darcy snatched it up, quickly scanning over the information. “Holy Fuck Thor,” she said, agog. “Six dates in less than,” she doubled checked the sheet, “two weeks? That's more than I've done in the last year.” Thor clicked off the stove and turned to lean against the countertop. “No. No, no, no, no, no. You do not get to do this,” Darcy said stalking up to him. “You don't go famine to feast.”

“My lady Jane would beg to differ,” Thor replied, crossing his arms with a satisfied smirk.

“Dude, ew. Just, no, tmi.” Darcy continued, “this girl doesn’t work that way.”

“I suppose you could call and cancel with them,” Thor said pushing away from the counter to go fetch plates for breakfast.

Darcy followed along at his heels. “That's dirty pool, thunder boy.” It had been easy flirting with all the ladies at the event, but by the cab ride home she’d been second guessing herself. If he knew she didn’t have the nerve to set up dates, he damn well knew she wouldn’t be the one to call first and cancel them. “You made the dates, you cancel them,” she said pushing the print out at his chest.

He sidestepped her, carrying the plates. “Happy hunting, Friend Darcy.”

“Asshole!”

***

The next morning, Thor found an empty pop-tart box in the pantry. When the delivery of groceries came in that afternoon, JARVIS informed him that pop-tarts had been removed from the list and could not be added back. Thor stalked down the halls of Stark tower, finding the bodega on the ground floor claimed to be completely out of stock. When he made a slowly increasing search of the blocks surrounding the tower, he found that all the local stores were similarly barren.

The pop-tart website, the pop-tart pages on Amazon, and every method Thor could think of online was blocked and Tony refused to help. “You’re the one who started this, big guy. I’m not getting in her way. She might do the same to my coffee.”

Chapter Text

Darcy tugged at her Culver sweatshirt as the elevator descended. She’d obsessed over this first date for a week. Thor’s calendar remained taped to her bathroom mirror and today just said “SIF, TRAINING RM B, 10AM” Of course he thought sparing down in one of the training rooms was a great first date. Hell, she wasn’t sure how sparing with an Asgardian warrior was even going to go. If Puente Antiguo had taught her anything, Sif was a badass. Would she be wearing her armor? Darcy had never seen her in anything else. She pulled self-consciously again at her sweatshirt, then dried her palms on her yoga pants. How would you even cancel a date with a person from another planet?

The elevator dinged and opened directly out onto the training room. It was cast in twilight, only half the lights on. Half way down the room, Lady Sif was punching a specially reinforced bag. It took Darcy a second to recognize her without armor. In tunic and tights, she seemed almost vulnerable. “Um, hi?”

Lady Sif stopped after a punch, letting out a deep breath as she steadied the bag. Turning to look at Darcy, she said, “Good morning Friend Darcy, it’s good to see you here.”

“Yeah, well,” Darcy wished she had pockets to stuff her hands into rather than just fidgeting with the bottom of her shirt. “I mean, good morning to you, too. And of course I’m here, we’ve got a date, right?” Darcy hoped she hadn’t gotten the date wrong and just interrupted Sif’s regularly scheduled training.

“Friend Darcy-“ Sif started.

“Just Darcy,” she asked.

“Darcy,” Sif began again, “I recognize my liege’s hand in this, if you wish to go I understand.” She looked so sincere, small without her armor.

Darcy bit her lip. It was a tempting way out. “No, it’s okay,” she said walking towards her. “I did circle your name.”

“And I, yours.” Sif said. “I was not jesting when I said I find you admirable.” Stepping closer to Darcy, leaving the side of the leather-bound bag. “and quite lovely.”

Feeling the intense draw, Darcy backed up a step, “So, um, sparring. Yes, sparring! That’s totally what we’re doing.”

Sif raised an eyebrow, amused at her skittishness but rolled with it. “Indeed. Let’s go over here.” She led Darcy to the mats, near the free weights. The mirrored walls reflected them as they stood facing each other.

“Take me down,” Sif ordered.

“Um, okay,” Darcy said, not sure where to start. She came up to Sif and wrapped an arm around her middle and tried to sway her. Nothing. She shoved at her shoulders, hooking a foot behind Sif’s ankle trying to trip her. She stepped out of trap neatly, leaving Darcy overbalanced. Sif grabbed her arm and twisted it up behind her back, her other arm locking gently around Darcy’s belly.

“You’re holding back- not using all your strength,” Darcy accused.

“This is true. I don’t want to hurt you Fri-, Darcy,” she said, catching herself.

A huff of laughter escaped her and Sif raised an inquiring eyebrow. “Not all hurt is bad,” Darcy explained.

Sif grinned; those dark, predatory eyes were back. “Agreed.” She twisted Darcy’s arm up a little higher earning her a whimper. Leaning in, Sif whispered in her ear, “Would you like me to use more of my…strength?”

Darcy’s breath hitched and she bit her lip. “I’m less breakable than you think,” she answered.

“Oh?” Sif said, dropping her hold and shoving Darcy towards wall. Stumbling, she caught herself against it. Her fingerprints smudged the mirrored surface. Sif came up behind her and easily pinned her wrists above her head with one hand. Struggling just enough to check her bonds, Darcy found herself locked in a vise unable to escape.

“Is this how you mount shield maidens?” she asked, breath fogging the mirror.

“No, usually it’s more like this,” Sif said, slotting her thigh between Darcy’s. She arched her back, trying to give Sif more space between her legs for friction to happen. “Flush with victory, we celebrate, dancing,” Sif continued, grinding her knee up to find the middle seam in Darcy’s tight yoga pants, “feasting.” She inhaled deeply along Darcy’s neck before leaving a light, closed mouth kiss against side of her throat. Darcy let out a little whine, tilting her head to give Sif better access. “How do feel about marks, lovely Darcy?”

It took her a moment to regain her wits, “Not where people can see,” Darcy finally said.

Sif tangled her free hand into Darcy’s hair, pulling her back for a light kiss. Such a chaste kiss shouldn’t have caused her hips to twitch like that, that magnetic intensity making her grind back against Sif’s knee. “Tell me if it’s too much.” Sif went back to kissing her throat, leaving a trail of tiny, gentle bites.

The fire that had started in at the core of her died down. “Is that it?” Darcy said disappointed. “I’m not glass-” With that challenge, Sif suddenly bit her shoulder through her sweat shirt. The sharp pain, muted by the thick cotton, transformed into a rush of heat. Her sentence was cut off with a whimper. Sif chased the noise, biting harder. “Ow, ow fuck! Yellow.”

Sif pulled away immediately, letting go of her wrists, “Yellow? Too much?”

Darcy turned around to face her, rubbing the abused spot on her shoulder. “Unless Asgardians use bite marks for dental impressions, yeah, a bit much.”

“And Yellow?” Sif asked.

“Uh,” Darcy paused, confused. “Duh, I’m a ditz, of course, you wouldn’t know green-yellow-red.” Sif looked even more confused, eyebrows drawn together like she was trying to put together a puzzle but didn’t have all the pieces. ”It’s an earth thing, basically green means hell yes, keep going; yellow means slow down or pause or probably ease up on your super strength in this case-”

“And red means stop?”

“Exactly! Red means stop, do not pass go, do not collect $200” Sif blinked at the additional reference. Darcy continued, “That cool?”

“Yes,” Sif agreed, “it is cool. Thank you for explaining.”

“No worries.” Darcy bit her lip. “You up for trying again?”

Sif laughed, the corners of her eyes crinkling. “Perhaps this time without the armor?” she said plucking at the grey fabric. “I’m not overly fond of a mouthful of thread.” Darcy pulled off her sweat shirt revealing a lime green sports bra and leaned back against the mirror. The cold glass caused her to shiver, goosebumps rising along her skin. Sif took the shirt from her and placed it on a nearby rack of free weights. She ran her hands along Darcy’s arms before touching the red splotch on her shoulder.

Darcy winced. “Maybe armor’s not a bad thing?” she said looking up into Sif’s dark eyes. Sif made a noncommittal hmm as she dragged her hands down over Darcy’s bra. She caressed her nipples through the fabric before stepping in close to bite them through the sports bra.

At first there was warmth, the kind that shot straight to her cunt making her legs spread so Sif could slot her leg between hers again, then, “ow, holy fuck, yellow.” Sif pulled back immediately, pushed up the bra and took Darcy’s nipple gently in her mouth. She hummed as she swirled her tongue, applying that sweet, wet pressure to Darcy’s breast. The vibrations made Darcy’s eyes roll back and her whimpering was nearly constant.

She hooked her leg over Sif’s hip, feeling her slickness gather between her legs and start to drip down her thighs. Sif released her hold on Darcy’s wrists to hoist her further up the wall. The room was silent except for Darcy’s keening and wet sounds of Sif biting and sucking down her soft belly. Darcy tangled her fingers in Sif’s hair, guiding her. More, her hands said as she tried to push Sif’s face deeper, to bite harder. A gasp escaped her as Sif used her strength easily to move her higher still on the wall, hooking one of Darcy’s legs over her shoulder. She caught a glance of herself in the mirrors across the room- hair frizzing from sweat, breasts hanging low from her pushed up sports bra, pink and darker red splotches from where Sif had made her way down her chest and belly. She looked thoroughly debauched.

Sif paused a moment, inhaling the musk of Darcy’s arousal before chomping down on her inner thigh. Darcy screamed, the pain intense even through the fabric of her yoga pants. Sif’s hot breath was so close to the core of her, transforming what would have been a yellow or even a red moment into a long, guttural moan. She was so close, her thighs trembling, back arching away from the mirror. Sif was pushing her limits, biting down again in the same spot. Like lightning, electricity sparked from that spot spreading a fire across Darcy’s nerves. The orgasm slammed into her, heedless of her clothes, the precarious height on the wall, or how tightly she was pulling Sif’s hair.

The aftermath left her boneless. Sif lowered her gently to the gym mats, petting her sweat-soaked hair as she came to rest beside her. “That is how I mount shield maidens,” Sif said.

Darcy laughed, “A+, would be mounted again.” Sif kissed her then, sweetly, chastely as if she hadn’t just been inflicting pain with those same lips. “So, do shield maidens get to mount you back?”

“On occasion,” Sif answered with a smile.

Darcy took Sif’s wrists and slowly moved them over her head, echoing how Sif had treated her. Sif didn’t resist. Straddling her thigh, Darcy began grinding her knee against Sif’s pubic mound. She could feel the heat radiating through their clothes and the damp beginning to soak through. She hadn’t been the only one aroused by what had just happened.

They locked eyes; Sif’s pupils were like saucers and her lips were deep red from her abuse of Darcy’s skin. “Just on occasion?” Darcy asked tilting her knee just so to make Sif gasp.

“I-” Sif tried to say, distracted, “I do tend to take command of the situation.” With that she raised her leg up from where it was straddled and tried to drive Darcy over that edge again. They matched each other’s feral grins, grinding against each other. Orgasms building quickly, both were too aroused for finesse. Sif came first, breaking Darcy’s hold on her wrists to pull her in for a messy, open mouthed kiss. With just another arch of her hips, Darcy came, too, another wave of pleasure crashing over her. She collapsed onto Sif, laughing at the pure exhilaration of it. Sif tightened her arms around Darcy in a fierce hug before turning them on their sides.

She kissed Darcy’s temple, “I haven’t had this much fun in an age.”

“Me neither,” Darcy said grinning. “Spar again soon?”

“Yes, I would like that Darcy.”

***

Outside Thor’s door there was an arrow taped to the wall pointing down to where a double box of S’mores Pop-tarts sat. As he left his apartment he was brought up short by the sight of it. He crossed his arms over his chest and leaned against the door frame, greatly satisfied. Thinking of the calendar he looked forward to more of these sweet tastes of success.

Chapter Text

Thor’s calendar had an address on the Upper East side, Jennifer’s name, and a time, 7pm. A little bit of google and a cab ride later, Darcy stood across the street from a gorgeous apartment building. It had marble veneer, evergreen planters, and an overhang to protect the uniformed doorman and residents from any rain. Darcy tugged down the bottom of her peacoat, glad that she’d dressed up. She took a fortifying breath before jaywalking across the quiet street.

“Good evening,” the doorman said as she approached.

“Um, hi,” Darcy said plunging her hands into the pockets of her coat. She wished she had some sort of engraved invitation. “I’m here to see,” she paused on the name, should she use the moniker or just her name? I mean, this was her doorman so the latter made more sense, “Jennifer?”

“Ah, Ms. Walters. You must be Ms. Lewis- she let me know to expect you. Go on up,” he said opening the door with a badge. The traditional look obviously hid more security than met the eye.

“402, right?” Darcy confirmed.

“Right,” he said warmly, “Elevators are right through there.” He pointed down the hall.

Darcy seemed to spend half her time waiting for elevators, what between running around the tower and living in Manhattan. In this case, she wasn’t sure if she wanted it to come faster or slower. When the doors opened, there thankfully were no mirrored walls- only solid wood and a polished brass plate for the buttons. The ride was short, only just enough time to nervously check her phone. The elevator opened onto a floor with only two doors on either end of the short hallway. There wasn’t going to be any excuses of not being able to find the right apartment.

Butterflies in her stomach, Darcy went to the door on the right and paused for a moment before ringing the doorbell. “There’s nothing to be nervous about, I mean it’s just a date. A date with She-Hulk at She-Hulk’s apartment, but yeah, just a date…” She heard the locks click and door opened soundlessly despite the thick metal core she noticed sandwiched between the wood. These were some heavy-duty security measures- maybe even the doorman was some sort of gray-haired ninja.

The delicious scent of garlic hit her as the apartment came into view. “You’re early!” Jennifer said.

Darcy blushed, “The green carnation lateness thing wasn’t a regular-“

“What?” Jennifer said confused, “It’s just dinner isn’t ready yet.”

“Oh,” Darcy said, mentally kicking herself. How would She-hulk even know she’d been late? Changing the subject, she said, “You cook?”

“Yeah, I’m cooking now actually. Come on in.” She turned towards the kitchen leaving Darcy to shut the door and follow. She glanced around the apartment. There was cool marble and leather couches, books everywhere, and coffee mugs scattered about. Claiming a seat at the kitchen island, she watched Jennifer put on a chef’s apron. “I’m usually a pretty plain cook, but I’ve got a few tricks to impress pretty dates with,” she said with a wink. “You like alfredo?”

Darcy was a bit taken aback, trying to recategorize She-Hulk, no, trying to recategorize Jennifer as a huge flirt. “Yeah, Italian’s great.”

Jennifer gave a little smile as she started cutting a loaf of French bread in half, “Garlic?”

“Garlic is awesome,” Darcy enthused. “But, I mean, not that’s it’s in any way expected, but garlic-”

“and kissing?” Jennifer completed the question as she started buttering the bread. “I figure if we’re both eating it, that’s not really going to be an issue.”

“So, kissing is on the table,” Darcy said.

Jennifer put down the butter knife and picked up Darcy’s hand. She kissed her knuckles, “On the table and any other surface you might like.” At Darcy’s giant blush, Jennifer laughed, “but first I’ve got to get this in the over and keep stirring the sauce. Help yourself to something to drink.”

Darcy poured herself a matching glass of white wine and took her seat again, watching Jennifer cook. A companionable silent fell between them. Jennifer, despite her claims at only being a plain cook, obviously knew her way around her kitchen and her spice rack. Everything smelled delicious.

Sipping her wine, Darcy admired her date. Jennifer’s favorite color was purple if her wardrobe was anything to go by. Deep purple slacks and cream short-sleeved blouse; she’d probably started cooking straight away once she got home. The matching suit jacket over the other island chair was a testament to that as well.

“Dinner is served!” Jennifer said, placing plates of chicken-broccoli alfredo in front of both seats. The time passed quickly, talking about work, Jennifer’s latest trial, and comparing notes on Bruce.

“Oh, I’m totally going to tease him about that,” Darcy said after a particularly embarrassing story.

“You should! My cousin doesn’t get near enough hell for some of the stuff he’s pulled.” Jennifer said, going in for a third helping. “I might have skipped lunch. My suave appearance belies a nervous interior. Plus hulking is hungry work.”

“I bet,” Darcy said taking another bite of garlic bread. “Bruce,” she paused to chew and swallow, “sorry.”

“No worries” Jennifer said, waving off Darcy’s lack of etiquette.

“Bruce totally packs it away from hulking too. We go through an extreme amount of humus.”

“It’s easier not being vegetarian. Up for the nickel tour after dinner?”

“Definitely,” Darcy said.

After they’d finished, Jennifer cleared the plates. “The kitchen, obviously,” she said before walking through an archway to the right. “The dining room,” she gestured towards a long glass table covered by paperwork, various thick legal texts, and a closed laptop. “Well, less dining and more where I get all my case prep done.” They made their way in a quick circuit of the apartment. The living room, a quick glance at a guest room still filled with boxes, and everywhere there were big windows and high ceilings. “And my bedroom,” Jennifer concluded.

Darcy took in the steel reinforced, four-poster bed with metal pillars as thick as her forearm, “That’s quite the bed.”

“I’m quite the girl,” Jennifer said, stepping closer. “May I kiss you?” Darcy nodded. It was a little awkward at first, kissing someone so much taller than her but they made it work. The energy felt different from Sif the day before, calmer, softer. Darcy’s arms had settled, wrapped behind Jennifer’s neck. Her hair, her skin felt no different for being green. She moaned into the kiss as Jennifer licked her way into her mouth. Pulling Darcy in close, the kissing grew heated, both their hands roaming. “Bed?” Jennifer asked, slightly breathless.

“Bed,” Darcy agreed. She had to hop just a bit to sit on the edge of the mattress.

Jennifer sat down easily, smiling, “It’s nice when something in this world is built for my size.”

“I hope you think I’m built for your size,” Darcy said with a grin. “I get the whole not easy being green while dating,” she continued, climbing into Jennifer’s lap. “But are you easy,” she layered the word with innuendo and pressed a quick kiss to Jennifer’s lips, “being green?”

She laughed, “Why, Ms. Lewis, are you asking if I’ll fuck you this evening?” She ran her hands over Darcy’s hips to cup her ass.

“Maaaaybe,” Darcy said, drawing out the word, “you know, if you’re interested.”

Jennifer flipped them over so Darcy was beneath her and kissed her breathless. “Very interested,” she said running her palms up Darcy’s sides. Darcy felt the heat of her arousal pool between her legs and knew it was answered in Jennifer by the flush in her cheeks and her darkened pupils. As she unbuttoned Darcy’s blouse, she paused, “Those are quite the set of bruises.”

“Asgardian warrior women are bitey, who knew?” said Darcy, aiming for nonchalance.

“You and Lady Sif?”

“Mmmhmm, yesterday,” Darcy said.

“Well, that’s a sexy image,” Jennifer said, hitching Darcy’s legs up higher on her hips. “You’ll find I’m more thrusty-“ Darcy tried to stifle a snort. “Ok, that sounded better in my head. But,” she said grinding down, “the sentiment is still there. Care to pick your pleasure? I have quite the variety.”

Darcy pulled her face down for another kiss before she said, “yes, please.” Opening the top drawer of her bedside table, Jennifer began to lay out some choices, almost a whole rainbow. “No green?”

Jennifer pulled a face, “Most of those aren’t labeled SHE-hulk, if you catch my meaning.”

“Ack. Yeah, no, ew.”

“Exactly. Any of these appeal to you?” Darcy chose a medium-sized purple cock and Jennifer started clearing away the rest and preparing her harness.

As Jennifer stripped, she was struck, admiring the view. The television reports with their shaky cellphone video footage didn’t do her justice. Of course, She-Hulk would be strong, Darcy knew that, but it was a different thing looking at the beautiful woman in front of her, watching her move and undress.

Naked, Jennifer stepped into her harness, tightened the straps, and rolled a condom over the dildo. It looked almost dainty, dwarfed by her frame. “Hey pretty lady, you going to join me?”

“Oh,” Darcy said, shaking herself from her reverie, “yeah, definitely.” She quickly stripped, leaving her clothes in a messy pile at the foot of the bed. As she pushed her way back to the middle of it, she said, “Sometimes I squirt. Do you have a towel to put down maybe?”

“Sure, I’ll go grab one,” Jennifer said. She walked to the attached bathroom, cock bobbing up and down as she moved. Darcy couldn’t suppress a giggle. It was just too ridiculous. “Are you laughing at me?”

“Nope,” Darcy said popping the p, “I would never.”

Jennifer gave an answering grin and shook her hips making her cock flail in circles. Darcy laughed, clapping a hand over her mouth to smother it. “There you go again, laughing at me! I should take you over my knee.”

“Oh no, not the briar patch, anything but the briar patch!”

She laughed then. “Song of the South? Really?” Jennifer said, climbing onto the king-size mattress sans towel.

“Part of my media and racism class at Culver,” Darcy said, reclining.

“Political science major, right I remember,” Jennifer said as she started running her hands over Darcy’s bare skin. She shivered as Jennifer caressed her neck, gliding over her breasts, and down her belly. “If it’s anything other than the briar patch then I guess I better just fuck you senseless instead.

“Promises, promises,” Darcy said with a smile.

“That and I wouldn’t want to give you even more bruises.” She shifted back, kneeling as she took Darcy’s thighs in hand and spread them. Sitting between them, Jennifer let her cock rest against Darcy’s folds. Darcy stretched, arching her back and hips to try to gain more contact. “That doesn’t mean I won’t play with them,” Jennifer teased, poking the dark bruise on her inner thigh.

“Ow, fuck!”

“I thought fucking is what we’re doing,” she said as she stroked the head of her cock over Darcy’s clit.

Darcy bit back a moan, “You’re cruel.”

“Yes, we lawyers are known for that,” Jennifer said, running the shaft steadily up and down the center of her pussy lips. “Being so cruel.” She teased the opening of Darcy’s cunt, barely entering her. “Did you come?”

“What?” Darcy asked, confused. They had only just gotten started.

“From the biting,” Jennifer clarified, flicking her opening again. “I can just picture it; a gorgeous warrior pinning you against the wall, holding you prone with her teeth, bruising you, marking you,” Darcy blushed. Jennifer reached down into the harness and turned on the vibrator at the base of her cock. “But I’ll bet she didn’t do this,” she said as she finally let Darcy sink down onto the vibrating shaft.

Clawing at the sheets, Darcy arched her back as she let out an ungodly moan of desire. Swiveling her hips, Jennifer stretched her tight walls sending shockwaves throughout her body. Darcy couldn’t help but let her eyes fall closed as she gave into the sensation. This time when her poor thigh bruise was roughly grabbed, she cried out and clenched around Jennifer’s unyielding cock.

“Darcy, beautiful,” Jennifer said in a husky voice as she thrust deeper, “touch yourself for me, help me make you come.”

She reached down between them to massage her clit and in just a few short moments smashed over that edge. ”Yes, yes, yes,” Darcy chanted. Jennifer was snapping her hips, pumping into Darcy as she peaked over and over, losing any sort of count. She came splashing out, soaking Jennifer’s thighs and bedsheets.

Coming down from those heights was a slow process, Darcy didn’t even have the brainpower to string together a coherent sentence. Jennifer discarded the strap-on with a wet clunk onto the bedroom floor. “It’s cold,” Darcy finally said.

“Yes, wet spots do that,” Jennifer said as she pet Darcy’s hair and kissed her sweaty forehead.

“Are you- ?” Darcy wasn’t sure how to word it.

She hugged her and pulled Darcy onto a dry space to cuddle. “I’m happy. Satisfied. It feels safer…,” she trailed off. Darcy pet the soft skin of Jennifer’s forearms, “but I also just like it this way. Some people can’t handle the one-sided feel of it and I won’t hold it against you if that’s the case.”

Darcy cuddled closer, “Nah, this is nice.”

***
In the morning, Thor signed for the weekly groceries and found Wildlicious Wild! Berry Poptarts buried between the tubs of peanut butter filled pretzels. He smiled at the bright purple icing, smug and pleased with his new breakfast.

Chapter Text

Most of Darcy’s bruises had faded to green and yellow smudges by the time her next date rolled around. The calendar had a time, address, and some sort of access code, but no name. According to google, the 20th street address was home to the Westside shooting range and Sunday at 5pm was after closing. Assuming Thor’s neat, runic handwriting was to be believed, this had to be a private event. She drummed her fingers on her vanity as she looked at herself in the mirror. She’s never shot a gun before, only her taser; that and the privacy made her nervous. It had to be Ms. 007, but she couldn’t remember the woman’s name.

She took her time walking there; it was only half an hour from the tower and it was a comfortable trip in jeans and a bulky sweater. Her phone chimed as she got to the locked door in the 20th street basement. Darcy smiled as she looked at the screen, “Good luck, pretty lady.” Jennifer had been texting with her since their date last week and had gotten the low down on Thor’s marathon ‘courtings’. The encouragement was welcome and helped calm Darcy’s nerves.

She entered the code on the keypad next to the plate glass door. “1493, Columbus stole all he could see,” she muttered to herself. With a click, the electronic lock gave way and she walked into the shop. "Hello?" Darcy called out.

"In the back," came the distant reply. There was a counter with a cash register to her right, before three tight aisles started. It was like a corner bodega that went on forever. The long, narrow corridors were made up of racks of every gun and hunting related equipment imaginable, most she couldn’t even identify. The walls had American flags, NYPD logos, and even a memorial emblem to both 9-11 and the Chitauri event.

Beyond the racks was an empty area, its walls covered in t-shirts and paper targets- bulls-eye, generic silhouettes, and green shambling zombies. The 007 blonde was behind the far counter, appropriately set in front of a wall of guns like something out of a spy movie. She was in another suit, this time with an obvious leather shoulder holster. Darcy felt underdressed in comparison.

"You moonlighting?” Darcy asked feigning confidence. “Doesn't the CIA pay enough?"

"The CIA pays just fine,” she replied. “The owners here are old friends and have one of the only ranges in the city proper. I thought you might be more comfortable with ‘spy stuff’ if you knew a bit more about the mechanics of what I actually do."

“Shooting things?” Darcy said coming to lean over the glass countertop, eyeing all the weapons with a vague mistrust.

“More pointedly, not shooting things. We just need to know how if the need arises.”

“Okay,” Darcy conceded, “I’ll go with that. And, weird, slightly awkward question, what’s your name again?”

She blinked, taken aback for a moment. “It’s Sharon. And yours is Darcy, right?”

“Right. Sorry, I had this on my calendar but there wasn’t a name written. I knew it was with you- I just,” she blushed.

“Didn’t remember,” Sharon finished the thought. “It’s okay, I get it.” Darcy knew it was better to ask up front for Sharon’s name, but it still felt like she had just lost points in her esteem. “I brought two guns I thought might work for you, a .22 and a 9mm. Typically I’ll use a 9mm, but it’s got a bit of recoil on it for a beginner. Have you ever shot a pistol before?”

“No,” she didn’t finish the statement with ‘and I don’t really want to either.’

“Alright let’s go through the basics,” and Sharon began her lecture on gun safety and the rules of the range. Darcy paid close attention, trying to contain her fidgets as the lecture wore on. As Sharon disassembled one of the guns, Darcy felt more like a trainee than someone on a date. “We’ll disassemble these again at the end of shooting to clean them. Typically, the staff does it for rentals but since they’re gone for the day, it’s on us.”

Sharon lead her passed the dry coffee pots, taking her back to the range. She flicked on the lights of a hall that ran the length of the shop, with alcoves like bank teller windows marking the way. Above each one there was a number and the maximum distances the target could be set; 25, 50, or 100 yards. The last set must have been for rifles as Darcy couldn't imagine anyone shooting a handgun at 300 feet.

“We’re going to work our way out, a few yards at a time,” Sharon said as she pinned up two of the silhouette targets on the hanging conveyor belts that would carry them down the range. “Watch how I shoot then we’ll have you try.” Darcy didn’t feel the need to respond and just started putting on the protective gear; ear plugs, ear muffs, and eye protection.

She tried to watch Sharon with a critical eye, knowing she’d need to copy her stance. There was a slight bend in her arms as she held the gun in front of her with both hands and her legs were staggered. The shells rained to the ground, Sharon was so fast on the trigger. She clicked through her magazine then picked up the second gun and aimed lower. If anything, the second gun went faster than the first and her whole demonstration was over in only a couple of minutes. It was both impressive and daunting as hell. She had the conveyor bring up the target revealing neatly clustered bullet holes around the head and heart of the dark silhouette.

Sharon popped out the spent magazines and slotted in fresh ones for Darcy’s turn. She tapped her ear muffs to indicate Darcy remove hers, too. “You may want to take off your sweater,” she said, loud enough to be heard through the ear plugs.

After stripping down to her t-shirt, she tried to mimic Sharon’s position but was soon corrected. Sharon stood behind her, pressing her hands against Darcy’s legs to shift them further apart, one slightly more in front of the other. She grit her teeth. It wasn’t pleasant being touched without knowing the person or being asked. Sharon tapped her ear muffs again, then said, “Remember, just breathe.”

She set the target in Darcy’s lane at two yards versus her previous seven. Darcy picked up the 9mm. She shouldn’t have been surprised that a hunk of metal was so heavy, but she was. She tried to remember to breathe through pulling the trigger and took a shot. The gun kicked back, the shot going high and to the left. Her hands and wrists hurt from the recoil but she didn’t set down the gun. Sharon came up behind her again, wrapping her arms around her to adjust her grip and the bend at her elbows. When she tried to soothe the tension in Darcy’s shoulders, it just made her tense up more.

Darcy hated the silence. Not that the bullets were quiet, her ears hurt despite the double layer of protection, it was the lack of conversation or even the ability to hold a conversation that Darcy hated. She wanted to escape to the bathroom and text Jennifer about just how awkward it all felt. She took a deep breath, smelling gunpowder and smoke, and took a mental step back. The adjustments were bringing the bullets closer to the middle of the target. Sharon was just trying to help, just trying to share an activity that she was obviously good at. She could deal with her being a little too hands-on.

The .22 was easier to shoot. It hurt her wrists less and Darcy wished she’d started with it, wished Sharon had been as attentive with her gun choice as she had been with her stance. She took another calming breath and tried to account for the kickback as she aimed. Bullseye!

“Fuck yeah!” Darcy exclaimed, hearing the words echo in her head. She put down the gun and looked over at Sharon. She was just as excited over the bullseye, mouthing ‘Good job!’ and offering a double high five. They clapped their hands together and, like a shock of cold water, Sharon leaned in and gave her a quick kiss. Darcy stood there, blank, as Sharon broke away and flipped the switch to move the target further down the alley. Without a word, Darcy turned back to the guns and finished emptying the second clip. The bullseye wasn’t repeated.

“I like your shirt,“ Sharon said as Darcy helped her reload the gun magazines. The Gogol Bordello concert t-shirt was one of Darcy’s favorites. She’d worn it specially for the date and tried to reframe things in her mind around that. It wasn’t fair to Sharon to give up this quickly- it was just a chaste, celebratory kiss after all- maybe now they could talk some.

“Thanks, um, I like your… holster?” Darcy replied.

Sharon brightened at the compliment, “Thank you! It’s one of my favorites.”

“One of?” Darcy said, incredulous.

With that, Sharon started in listing her various holsters and the reasons behind each. She didn’t wind down until the last bullet clicked into place, the guns were reloaded, and fresh targets were hung. “Shall we?” she said gesturing down the aisles.

The second round of shooting was uneventful. Darcy had figured out quickly that guns were not going to be her hobby of choice. Putting aside their protective gear for the last time, they went into a private side room to start cleaning the guns. “You know it’s true, what the crime shows talking about gun powder residue- it lingers,“ Sharon said, reaching out to stroke Darcy’s sensitive inner wrist. Darcy flinched.

“Ticklish?” Sharon said with a smile.

“No, just sensitive,” Darcy said, pulling her hand away.

“Sensitivity can be nice,” she said as she cupped Darcy’s cheek, streaking her face with a line of gun grease. Darcy knew what was coming and froze when Sharon kissed her. Her mind was racing, maybe Sharon just thought she was shy or had mistaken her silence as consent. The kiss, tentative at first, wasn’t staying that way. Sharon was licking at lightly at her lips; her arms had gone up around the back of Darcy’s neck, pulling them closer together. Darcy couldn’t stop thinking about gun powder residue on her favorite shirt.

Then they both felt Sharon’s phone vibrate. “I’m sorry,” she said pulling back, “it might be work.” She took her phone out and checked. “I’m sorry I’ve got to take this. Another time?”

“Yeah, I'll call you,” Darcy said, grabbing her sweater and heading quickly for the door. She hoped Sharon hadn’t noticed that she’d left quickly without exchanging numbers.

***
When Thor came in to start cooking dinner later that evening there was an open box of chocolately strawberry pop-tarts on the counter, a pile of foil wrappers, and a forlorn Darcy munching on her 6th pop-tart. “Shield sister, you are not well.”

“No shit,” Darcy said, shoving the final bite of pop-tart into her mouth and tearing open the last foil pack. Thor frowned and covered her hands with his. He knew the calendar well enough to know where she’d been earlier.

“Some courtings are not meant to be,” Thor said.

“I just try so hard you know?” Darcy said, releasing the pop-tarts to him and scrubbing at her eyes with the heels of her palms. “This is why I’ve been out of the dating scene since Helen. I just push myself too hard and blame myself when it doesn’t go right.”

“I am sorry, Darcy, I should not have pushed-“

“No, no, it’s okay,” she said taking a deep breath. “I mean, Jennifer was amazing and we’ve been texting nonstop and Sif was a lot of fun-

“She told me she had an excellent bout with you,” Thor said

Darcy let out a bark of laughter, ”Yeah, an excellent ‘bout’, definitely repeatable.”

“But again, shield sister, if you wish me to end this, I will,” he said looking resolute.

“Look it was a dick move to set up all these dates without asking me, but Jane was right. I would have chickened out. Just because I didn’t hold firm boundaries tonight doesn’t mean that the rest of the dates will be bad.” She sighed. “Just take the rest of these away and hug me, okay?”

“Okay,” he said and gave her a gentle hug.

Chapter Text

“Another day, another date,” Darcy said, applying fire engine red lipstick. Tonight was all about confidence. She was flagging with red flannel over a plain white t-shirt, jeans and doc martins; her big stomp-y dyke boots. The calendar was much kinder today. Her date was Karen, the sweet newbie blonde, and the location was a diner in Hell’s Kitchen. “No getting handsy unless I want it. No guns...unless I’m getting mugged?” She added her taser to her purse. “Come on Darcy girl, let’s go knock her socks off.”

The subway and a short walk got her to the Hideaway Diner. It had plate glass windows along the upper half of the wall giving her an excellent view of the well-lit interior. Waitresses rushed around wearing mustard yellow and orange uniforms that looked straight out of the fifties. She’d worked in a diner herself and could only assume the outfit was something they were forced to buy. Insult added to injured dignity to be sure. She resolved to tip more generously than usual.

A tiny bell rang when she opened the door. “Hey Darcy! Over here,” Karen called out, raising her arm. She had already grabbed them a booth at the far end of the restaurant. From what Darcy could tell, she was in yet another sundress. How she wasn’t freezing in this weather was beyond her.

She slipped into the other side of the vinyl booth. “Hey back, lovely,” Darcy said with a smile. Before Karen had a chance to reply, their waitress, D-An, was there to introduce herself and pass out their menus. When she’d left with their drink orders, Darcy continued, “Come here often?”

Karen snorted. “Really?” she said, amused.

It took her a second to figure out what Karen meant. “Ugh! No, I mean, yes, but not in the pick-up line sort of way. In the ‘what’s good here’ kind of way,” Darcy clarified as she gestured to the menu.

A slow smile spread across Karen’s face. “Good, because there are way better pick-up lines.”

“Like ‘Are you an astronaut’?” Darcy said.

“Cuz you’re out of this world,” Karen finished, “yep, that’s a much better bad pick-up line.”

“Careful! I’ve got a ton of them,” Darcy said with an answering smile.

“And I bet I know them all,” Karen said as D-An came back for their order. “I’m ready if you are.”

Darcy grabbed her menu and said, “You go first. I’ll figure it out real quick.” It was a standard diner menu, nothing fancy, not even world-famous meatloaf. As much as she loved a good bad pick-up line, she half-wished that Karen had answered her original question about the food. Karen didn’t hesitate in ordering a club sandwich and fries so she just went with an old favorite, blueberry pancakes. “So....is your name Google?”

“Cuz I’m everything you’re looking for,” Karen replied and just like that they were off and running. Tossing lines back and forth, only stopping to say thank you when the food arrived.

“You know the DNA helicase one actually got me a date,” Darcy said

“No way!”

“Hand to god, it did.” Darcy started in on some of her more ridiculous stories about former girlfriends. “I had this one girlfriend in college, Becca, who was always expecting me to drop everything and do something for her. The worst time was when she begged me to keep her awake during finals so she could complete her, I shit you not, close-up ‘orchid’ painting. I stayed up with her until 5, 6 am and then I decided that I could grab a couple hours sleep before my calculus final-“

“Oh no,” Karen said, eyes widening.

“Oh yes, I wake up an hour into the final, say ‘Fuck!’, shove my feet into the closest pair of shoes- my shower flip flops, and high tail it across campus in my sleep shorts and camisole. In November. In West Virginia. My poor teeth were chattering right out of my head when I burst into the exam. My professor, a saint, takes pity on me and lets me start the test.”

“Then what happened?”

“Oh, I totally aced it,” Darcy said with a smile then continued, “but I didn’t know that at first. It finally led to an honest discussion slash fight about boundaries and was one of the first times I’d put my foot down about something. She couldn’t take not being the center of my universe so we broke up.” She took another bite of pancake. The break-up had really fucked her over at the time, but it made a funny story now. “What about you? Any wild exes?”

“Um,” Karen started playing with her straw, twirling it in between her fingers before taking a sip. “I’ve never actually had a girlfriend.”

“Oh,” Darcy said, taken aback. It had been years since she’d dated someone so new but she brushed the unease off. This was supposed to be light-hearted fun. “Well, I asked about exes- not ex-girlfriends. Got any dumb boys in your past?”

“Oh my god,” Karen said looking relieved, “so many.” She talked with her hands, gesturing with her sandwich, crumbs scattering as she talked about the ridiculous situations her past loves and mistakes had gotten her into. Darcy let her guide the rest of conversation as they both ate.

When there was a pause, plates empty except for crumbs and Karen’s pickle spear, Darcy asked, “Wanna do the dorky thing and split a milkshake? Maybe chocolate?”

“Sure,” Karen agreed. She waved down D-An asking for the check and the shake. Both were quick to arrive. Splitting the check was easy, splitting the milkshake was more awkward. Darcy’s breasts got in the way when she tried leaning over the table to reach her straw, so she just switched sides to be next to Karen instead of across.Karen playfully bumped Darcy’s shoulder as she sat down, ”If I said you had a nice body…?”

Darcy laughed. “Would you hold it against me? Nice,” she said returning the bump. “Cherry?”

“All yours,” Karen replied.

Darcy popped the cherry, stem and all, into her mouth. This was a trick that had moved more than a couple of dates towards a more private venue. She ate the cherry then used her tongue and teeth to tie a knot in the stem.

“Holy crap, really?” Karen said as Darcy held up the knot.

“Really,” she smiled, “So, how ‘bout that shake?”
After they’d finished at the diner, Darcy walked her home. “Do you, um, do you want to come up for coffee?” Karen asked, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. She reminded Darcy of herself back in freshman year, shy but still eager.

“Yeah, coffee sounds good.” Karen unlocked the apartment building’s front door and led the way to the stairs. Darcy hadn’t realized it was a 3rd floor walk-up. A bit out of breath, she said, “I’m so used to elevators.”

“Yeah, an elevator would have been nice for my couch,” Karen replied, “This is me, come on in.” She tossed her coat over a chair and closed the door behind Darcy.

She had only a moment to take in the sparsely furnished apartment before Karen took her hand and stepped in close. The kiss was sudden; an unpleasant mashing together that crushed her lips back against her teeth. Karen broke away, her lips smeared with what was left of Darcy’s lipstick, and dropped Darcy’s hand like she’d been shocked. She stammered about starting coffee as she turned towards the small kitchen.

Darcy grabbed her hand, pulling her back in. She knew the kiss for what it was; panic, fear that if she didn’t seize the moment that she never would. Placing a hand along her cheek, both to soothe and to keep her from pressing in too hard, Darcy restarted the kiss. It was a slow series of touches, a progression mirroring what Karen was doing. The enthusiasm was there, like a banked fire slowly being restored to flame, and the best way Darcy knew how to kiss someone, to know what they liked, was to press in but let them lead. Karen tentatively touched Darcy’s lip with her tongue and she replied with her own. Soon the soft kisses opened deeper. Darcy stroked along Karen’s sides coming to hold her hips as Karen grasped at her flannel shirt, trying to both meld into her and strip it off at the same time. Karen broke away for air, panting, heart racing. Darcy took the opportunity to nuzzle her neck and Karen said haltingly, “May, maybe more…” she gasped as Darcy found a particularly sensitive spot right below her ear, “more horizontal?”

“Bed?” Darcy suggested. Taking her hand again, Karen guided them to the bedroom. She slipped off her shoes and scooted to the middle of the bed. Darcy didn’t bother with untying her boots, just crawled over her, letting her hair fall like a curtain cutting off their faces from the rest of the room. “Better?”

“Much,” she said winding her arms behind Darcy’s neck. Kissing her deeply, Darcy let her hands travel down, feeling the lace of Karen’s bra through her sun dress. She wrapped her legs around Darcy’s waist, pulling her close as her dress hiked up.

Pulling the fabric higher, Darcy placed a hand over her panties. The heat and wetness were obvious through the soaked cotton as she pressed two fingers along the slit. “Maybe it’s time to get rid of these?” Karen giggled, blushing as they untangled from each other. She took off her underwear, kicking it across the room, “Tell me,” Darcy said, “how do you like being tasted?”

Karen blinked, “I don’t think I’ve ever been asked that. Um, start slow and we’ll go from there?”

“Sounds good, and please,” she said with light kiss and a smirk, “remember my name.”

“Cuz I’ll be screaming it later? That one’s pretty crass.”

Darcy sat back, “Should I have complimented your shoes instead?”

Pulling Darcy back in by her hair, Karen kissed her. “Well I do wanna fuck and my shoes are already off. Come on Darcy- this pussy isn’t going to eat itself,” she grinned.

Darcy gave another answering smile, “Demanding! I like it. Yes ma’am, commencing pussy-eating ma’am.”

“Good girl.” She said, teasing. Darcy inhaled deeply as she began mapping her geography. Circling the clit, she pressed along the hood causing Karen to whimper. Her pussy was beautiful with wide, long lips. She glided along the inside and outside of her labia, feeling them start to swell with Karen’s growing arousal. Sweeping up that smooth path from cunt to clit, Darcy dragged her tongue through the tangy, smoky taste of her. She was chasing what made Karen’s breath hitch, chasing those tiny whimpers that kept escaping.

Karen tangled her fingers in Darcy’s hair, pushing her face deeper as she began lapping at her clit. Gentle licks became broad, firm strokes at Karen direction. Darcy grabbed a double handful of Karen’s ass as she arched off the bed, wanting more. Her thighs started to tremble, locking around Darcy’s head. Her breathing stopped, all her muscles tense as she silently orgasmed, cunt clenching at nothing as Darcy continuing to lick her clit.

Neither of them heard the door open, Karen lost in sensation and Darcy’s head captured by her thighs. Foggy walked in, “Hey Karen, are you here? Your door was open and Mrs. Cardenas gave us a gift for winning her-“ His voice cut off as he stepped around the corner. The bottle of whiskey dropped from his nerveless hands, landing with a heavy thud. Only the rug had prevented it from shattering.

Karen jerked up at the noise. “What- Foggy?”

He’d gone beet red, stuttering, “I didn’t, I mean, I wouldn’t, you’re a-? Uh, I just-.” The whole time he’d been slowly backing away before he just turned and fled out the door.

Karen called out, “Foggy wait!” She flipped her dress back down, scrambling up to shove her shoes on. She turned quickly and kissed Darcy, tasting her own wetness. “Thank you, and I’m sorry.” With that, she ran after the man leaving Darcy stunned on the bed.

Darcy flopped down with a groan. “Okay Darcy-girl,” she said to herself, “what have we learned about banging straight women? Don’t, seriously, no matter how blond and how gorgeous, do not engage with ladies who obviously have unresolved dude issues.” She gathered up her flannel from the floor and found the bathroom. Her lipstick was completely gone and her face was still shiny. Heaving a sigh, she started cleaning herself up. It was unfair label the evening as a complete loss, but it certainly felt that way. Finished, Darcy left, clicking the button on the door knob that would lock the door after her. She hoped she hadn’t locked Karen out and yet couldn’t bring herself to care overly much.

***

The next morning, Thor found a box of his least favorite kind of pop-tarts, the limited edition cinnamon roll, sitting on his doorstep. He could only hope the next date would go better.

Chapter Text

This wasn’t a part of town Darcy normally frequented, then again Hell’s Kitchen hadn’t been either. She favored the Manhattan near Avengers Tower with its shiny and chrome exteriors. The only thing shiny about this place was the slick sidewalk outside the wide wooden door. The boroughs were big on older places like this, a worn brick bar with its neon OPEN sign lit from behind a dingy window. Darcy took a deep breath to calm her nerves, dried her hands on her skirt, and pulled the door open. Inside met every expectation of a dive bar she’d ever seen in movies, so much so she found herself glancing at the corners just to check for cameras. Jessica was sitting at a low hardwood table near the front, sipping from a glass of whiskey, with the bottle at her elbow. She was still wearing the same leather jacket and fuck-off attitude from the other night.

“Hey,” Jessica said as she approached the table.

“Hey back,” Darcy replied. Jessica’s scarf was open, exposing her neck and tips of her collar bones. It felt strangely like a crack in her armor despite it being such a small thing.

“Whiskey okay?” Jessica said gesturing at the bottle.

Darcy sat across from her, “Yeah, whiskey’s good.” Jessica poured her a drink and passed her the tumbler. “Thanks.”

“No problem,” Jessica said, leaning back in her chair. “I’m going to be straight with you, I’m not looking for a u-haul. I drink and I work as a PI meaning I’m not available a lot of nights. Make sense?”

Darcy took a sip of her whiskey, “Yeah, I get it. Not quite a one-night stand, but close.”

“Right. One of my biggest things though is consent. We’re going to be drinking and I want to clear up any miscommunication now. Knowing what you know, would you want to fuck later?”

“I, uh,” Darcy stammered, taken aback at the blunt question. She took another quick sip to fill the silence, “yeah, knowing what I know, yeah, I think I’d like that.” After Karen’s inexperience and Sharon’s pushed boundaries, her forthright question was a breath of fresh air.

Jessica finished her drink and poured another. She offered a toast, “To the start of beautiful fucking relationship.”

“Emphasis on the fucking,” Darcy said clinking glasses. Jessica shot back her whiskey and Darcy followed suit. She coughed as the drink burned its way down. “So,” Darcy said when she’d recovered.

“So?” Jessica replied.

“So, you said your sister and boss wanted you to ‘expand your horizons’ but you know the old u-haul joke. This isn’t your first go at this, is it?” Darcy asked, almost rhetorically.

“No,” Jessica said, “It’s not. Trish, she got this idea in her head because she figured that I needed a break from men.” She took a drink, “Her bitch mom adopted me as a charity case when I was 14, but Trish treated me well- well enough that I ended up crushing on her pretty hard. Kissed her once and freaked her the fuck out. Well,” Jessica paused finishing her drink, “never again. I fucked my way through the girls in high school to get the crush outta my system. I kept it pretty low-key though, so I don’t think Trish ever knew where my ‘horizons’ actually were.”

“Fuck,” Darcy said finishing her drink and refilling them both. “I’ve done something like that- not quite the same combo. I mean I kissed Jane once. We were drunk and it was awkward as hell. She was, is, my boss and we’re like sisters now, so never again.”

“Cheers to that,” Jessica said, clinking their glasses.

“And I fucked my way through Culver to get over a really nasty break-up freshman year,” Darcy continued trying to match Jessica’s story and intake of whiskey. “How ‘bout a more pleasant topic? Maybe favorite cases you’ve worked?”

Cheaters, liars, and missing persons became the conversation. Although Darcy would interject the occasional comment and story about her favorite astrophysicist, especially how she disappeared for hours in London, she couldn’t stop thinking about the direct question from the start of the evening. She couldn’t stop watching Jessica’s lips as she talked, stealing glances at her fingers as the they tapped on her glass. “But how about you Dee,” Jessica asked changing the focus of her jilted lover stories, “any disastrous relationship skeletons in your closet?”

Darcy finished her drink, now quite pleasantly drunk, “Nah, not really. My relationships don’t usually last long- I deal with intimidating people.”

Jessica shot back her whiskey, “I am intimidating people.” She tapped her index finger against her empty glass, seeming to come to a decision. “Wanna fuck?”

Darcy blinked. “Um, yeah. Yeah, I do,” she finished more firmly. Jessica got up and waved at her to follow. The room didn’t exactly spin when Darcy stood up, but it felt like she was stumble-dancing across the bar. It struck her as strange that they were headed towards the back, rather than out the front door, but she figured Jessica knew what she was doing. She stifled a laugh at a thought; in Jessica we trust.

Everything was just a little bit rosy and she didn’t pause when they entered the bathroom, rather than a backdoor. Grabbing her hand, Jessica pulled her into the stall against the outer wall. Closing the stall door, Jessica locked it and hung Darcy’s purse on the hook. They paused a moment, staring at each other, then Jessica threw an arm across the top of Darcy’s chest, pinning her against the graffiti-covered cement wall. She kissed her hard, biting at Darcy’s lower lip until her mouth fell open. Darcy’s fingers clawed at Jessica’s shoulders through her leather jacket. Their mouths were open wide, kissing with abandon, breathlessly. Jessica slotted a leg between Darcy’s, grinding her thigh against her mound. Jessica swallowed each moan Darcy let out, angling to better give what friction she could through their clothes.

Jessica broke the kiss, both panting, their foreheads touching as they breathed the whiskey-scented air. “You say the word and we’ll go back to the table, keep talking, keep drinking til I put you in a cab at the end of the night. I’ll stop if you want, no hard feelings,”

Putting her boot on the rim of the toilet bowl, Darcy keened, “Please, Jessica, please, I want it, want you.”

Jessica dropped her hand from Darcy’s hip to hitch up her skirt, touching her through her panties. “You’re soaking,” she whispered in Darcy’s ear. Pushing aside the panties, she ghosted her finger over Darcy’s open folds. “Such a wet cunt- I’ll ask you again Darcy, do you want me to fuck you? Want me to dive into your hot, tight pussy?”

Darcy was having trouble finding words. Her brain was stuck on trying to rock her hips to make Jessica fulfill the promises her questions were making. “Jess-Jessica, finger-fuck me, hard, please,” Darcy begged, trying to open her legs wider. Jessica circled her clit once, twice, then slid down and entered her with two fingers in one smooth thrust. Darcy’s head fell back against the concrete, losing herself to the sensation. Riding Jessica’s fingers, her thumb taking over to stroke her clit, Darcy’s whimpers became breathy moans.

Jessica’s fingers had just started the come-hither motion, when they heard the door open. Darcy’s head snapped up in a panic, her eyes meeting Jessica’s dark, dilated pupils. She gave a wicked grin and clamped a hand over Darcy’s mouth, thrusting faster. Sloppy, wet sounds, loud in the small bathroom, drowned out whatever the nameless stranger was doing. Darcy tried to stifle her cries in Jessica’s hand and the hot flush of embarrassment colored her cheeks as she failed. She could just imagine what the stranger thought. Thankfully, they left as quickly as they’d come and Jessica redoubled her efforts to get Darcy to lose her damn mind. She moved her hand, kissing Darcy fiercely. The whole bathroom reeked of sweat and sex. Jessica slid a third finger in, stretching Darcy wide. Her whole body trembled as she came closer to that edge. Jessica’s poor jacket was going to have tiny crescents in the leather from where her nails were digging in.

Suddenly, it hit. Darcy let out a scream, gushing, splashing out onto the floor. Her wet orgasm spilled down her thigh as tremors racked her body. She was being held up by Jessica’s strength alone. She gave Darcy a moment to catch her breath then asked, “Can you stand?” Darcy nodded, too overwhelmed to find words yet. “I think you’re done, Dee,” she said with a satisfied smile.

“But-“ Darcy started to object only to be silenced by a kiss.

“Get me next time,” Jessica said.

It was a blur from there. Dazed from alcohol and orgasm, the looks from the bar patrons just slid right off her as they walked out the front door holding hands. Jessica used her phone to hail a cab then pinned Darcy against the dirty brick wall. This kiss was absolutely filthy, wet, hard, with teeth clacking against each other as they tried to go deeper. Jessica gripped her hips with bruising strength as Darcy tangled her fingers in her hair. Just like before they didn’t give a fuck who saw. A car, the taxi, honked its horn at them. “Text me, Dee,” Jessica said, breaking away.

The cab ride to the tower was mercifully silent and Darcy rode the elevator up with sticky thighs and a satisfied smile.

***

Late the following day, a hungover Darcy found Thor watching a loud action movie in the main living room of the tower. “Hey big guy, could you turn it down a minute?”

Thor paused the movie and turned to find her squinting at him through a pair of dark sunglasses, holding a bottle of whiskey with a bow around the neck and a family sized box of chocolate chip cookie dough pop-tarts. “Thanks,” she said, “and thanks for pushing me.”

She handed him over the bounty. “It was wrong of me to take out my annoyance on you when it was really my own insecurities I was mad at. If last night taught me anything it was the usefulness of being blunt and upfront. Also that sometimes hangovers are totally worth it,” she said with a wry smile then winced at the motion.

“Friend Darcy, it is I who- ,“ Thor started then paused, considering. “You are welcome and I thank you for your gifts.”

“JARVIS has pop-tarts back on the grocery list, by the way. I’m still probably going to get you something special after tomorrow’s date.”

“I look forward to finding out how your final courting goes. I take it that last night went well?”

“Very,” Darcy said shortly. “Anyway, I just wanted you to know I appreciate you, ‘kay?”

Thor nodded and lifted the bottle, “I feel thusly appreciated. Thank you again, friend Darcy, and I wish you a speedy recovery.”

“Thanks, big guy. I’ll see you at dinner.”

Chapter Text

One of the many nice things about Stark Tower, Darcy thought as her thumbs flew over the phone’s keyboard, was even the elevators had cell service. ‘You’ll be fine! Have fun!’ Jennifer reassured her, ‘And we can always ‘hulk-smash’ if it turns out spiders aren’t your thing ;D’

Darcy snorted. They had ‘smashed’ a few times since their first date, each time better than the last, to the point where she didn’t know if she even wanted to go through with Thor’s last matchmaking attempt.

As she stepped off the elevator to the gym, she was reminded of Sif and safewords. A little shiver ran down her spine.

“Cold?”

Darcy shrieked at the unexpected voice, hand flying to her heart in fright. She spun around to see an amused Black Widow leaning against the wall that flanked the elevator. “How the fuck do you do that?!” Darcy exclaimed, fright making her tone waspish.

“Practice,” the red head smirked. “It helps when the target is distracted.”

Darcy’s eyes went wide. Her throat tightened as she swallowed heavily, “Target?”

“Only teasing, malen'kaya mysh,” Natasha said, her hands up in a placating gesture.

Trying to wrap her tongue around the Russian words, Darcy repeated, “…may link ya mish?”

“‘Malen'kaya mysh', little mouse,” Nat translated, stepping forward to tap Darcy lightly on the nose. It was an easy sort of affection that broke the tension.

Darcy took a calming breath and decided to tease back, “So… that makes you the big cat?”

Nat laughed. “Afraid I’m going to eat you up?” she asked, showing a fierce amount of teeth.

At Darcy’s snort of wry amusement, Natasha arched a perfectly shaped eyebrow in silent inquiry. “I mean,” Darcy began,”… if the date goes well….”

The laugh that rang out this time from Natasha was a surprisingly robust sound; echoing off the mirrors along the gym wall. ”There’s that spark!” She exclaimed. “Want to get started?”

Unlike the shooting range the previous week, this lesson was comfortable. Darcy felt respected in her space. The basic self defense moves, like breaking wrist holds, were something she could see herself using in the future. As she grew more confident in the sharp, swift motions, she also glowed under Natasha’s praise.

The spy watched her form as she hit the swaying bag hanging from the ceiling. After a particularly forceful punch, Natasha stepped forward and whispered in Darcy’s ear, “I guess lesbians know how to make a proper fist after all.”

Darcy blushed but laughed, “Yep! It just took a little help from a super spy extraordinaire.”

“Always happy to help,” Nat said with a pleased smirk, “Just one more move to show you. This is how to punch someone if you like them.” With that, her date gave Darcy a firm knock on the shoulder with her wrist turned slightly askew, robbing the punch of any lasting sting.

“Ow!” Darcy exaggeratedly exclaimed, pouting as she rubbed her uninjured shoulder, “I thought you only punched the bad guys?”

Natasha laughed, “Maybe if you ask real nice, Maria will tell you how well I hit the good girls.”

“Maria… Hill?”

“The very same,” she said, smiling with pride. “We’re partners.”

Darcy was taken aback. She thought Hill was married to the job or even secretly to Fury, “Not, like, partners in crime, right?”

A pained grimace crossed Natasha’s face. She turned away from Darcy to hide the expression, adjusting the punching bag. “Some of what we get up to is almost certainly illegal, but no, we’re romantic partners. She and I have been together for a while now.”

Eyes widening, Darcy asked, “How long’s a while?”

“Years,” Natasha said, nonchalantly.

A sudden panic overtook her, imagining an angry Maria Hill kicking in her suite door with a troop of elite commandos. “But then why were you at…?”

“Don’t look so scared, malen'kaya mysh!” She let go of the bag and reached out to soothingly run her hands over Darcy’s shoulders. “Maria bought me the ticket herself. I mentioned that it sounded like fun, so she jumped at the chance to buy me the experience as a present.”

“So, no commandos will break down my door if I kiss you?”

“No commandos, I promise,” Natasha said softly as she leaned in to kiss Darcy.

Kissing the spy was almost a lesson in interrogation. A give and take of information- of Natasha uncovering what made Darcy’s breath hitch and her knees grow weak. With a tongue that skillful, she found herself hoping that her ‘big cat’ would eat up this little mouse.

Black Widow gently pulled away from the kiss, leaving Darcy a bit dazed. She murmured, “I’m calling this lesson over.”

“Oh.” The disappointed sound rose unbidden from Darcy. It had been going so well; fun banter, silly nickname, and that kiss! But if Nat wanted to end the date on that note, Darcy wasn’t going to try weedling more time.

Natasha gave her a quick peck before saying, “You’re so expressive, Darcy, but don’t jump to conclusions! Lesson over, not date.” The spy kissed along the curve of Darcy’s jaw, until her lips were just beneath her ear and whispered, “Come to my room, Darcy, we’ll shower, then see what trouble we can get into.”

As the pair continued the make out, Darcy felt the ride up in the elevator was both too short and too long all at once.

Entering the apartment was a series of briefly glimpsed snapshots of Natasha and Maria’s life together. It was messier, more lived in, than Darcy expected. Pictures of the couple smiled from the walls and end tables. There were dishes in the sink, clothes slung over the sofa, and an immense variety of boots and high heels piled by the front door. She looked at her date leading her through the rooms and felt a swell of fondness. It was obvious that Nat was utterly enmeshed with Maria. The idea that a couple could have that and still encourage fun with others? Darcy hoped she could have that some day.

Soon enough they reached the master bath. The shower was a huge walk-in with a tiled bench along one wall, and both a rainfall and detachable shower head. Within moments of turning on the water, it was steaming. Both women stripped with efficiency, and Darcy got to see her date naked for the first time. Nat’s scars were glossy streaks against her pale skin, echoes of a long life of violence. It was a reminder that this gorgeous woman was also deadly as hell. Natasha in turn was devouring Darcy with her eyes. “Shall we?” the spy asked, gesturing to the open shower door.

Darcy stood under the spray, much hotter and better pressure than the gym. It was strange, she thought, Nat didn’t look older in the usual way, no gray hair or lingering lines etched at the corners of her eyes. Natasha was older by her easy confidence, in the way she carried herself. Darcy felt suddenly self-conscious of her stretch marks and heavy, less-than-perky breasts. As if reading her thoughts, Nat pressed from behind and cradled Darcy’s breasts in her hands.

“You’re an incredibly sexy woman, Darcy,” Natasha said, kissing her shoulder. “Take me to bed- I want you to touch me for my pleasure.”

In short order, Darcy did just that. Black Widow lounged on the bed like a throne, her wet red hair spread like a halo on the pillow. She was utterly in command of the situation, and Darcy was more than content to devote worship to the older woman. Kneeling above her, Darcy began peppering Natasha’s breasts with kisses. She lapped at one nipple while caressing the other, chasing the whimpers escaping from her date. Natasha’s legs spread of their own accord, welcoming her worshiper lower. Not one to pass up an invitation, Darcy moved lower to nuzzle the underside of Natasha’s breasts before moving lower still.

Her mouth lingered over soft skin, kissing down her date’s flat belly. Pausing to nip around Natasha’s belly button, Darcy gave it a playful lick. Natasha’s snort of laughter broke the moment. “Come up here,” she said, pulling Darcy up for a kiss. “Do you have much experience with fisting?”

Darcy bit her lip, slightly embarrassed, “Some, though it’s been a while.”

“Open that drawer,” Natasha pointed at the side table. Inside were black nitrile gloves like in a tattoo studio, and a bottle of fancy lube labeled in french, “Put on some gloves. I want you use the bullet vibe on the hood of my clit as you finger fuck me.”

“You’re a demanding pillow princess, aren’t you?” Darcy teased, as she put on gloves and clicked the button on the vibrator.

“Da, malen'kaya mysh, and you’d do well to remember who’s the cat here,” Natasha replied with a smirk.

“Is that so?” Darcy asked, sliding two well-lubed fingers up to the hilt inside her date’s already drenched cunt. “I’d say I have this pussy cat well in hand,” She said, grinning.

Natasha huffed a breathy reply, “When you have your hand well in pussy, let me know?”

Darcy laughed easily this time, and pressed a kiss to the red-head’s hip. “Yes, my princess.” She then inserted the middle, index and ring, drawing them out in a come hither motion. Nat groaned in the best way. Adding more lube, Darcy reapplied the vibe to the red head’s clitoral hood. “More?” She asked.

Natasha nodded and moaned a drawn out, “yessssssss…”

Darcy adjusted and fucked her with her with four fingers, to knuckles but not all the way in.

Widow was gleaming with sweat, keening at the sweet intrusion, and begged, “Darcy, more.”

Darcy had a wicked grin, it was all the invitation she needed to add her thumb to the fold. She worked with Nat’s clenching vagina to take in the knuckles. as Darcy hit the back wall fingers curving inwards, she was well and truly fisting Natasha. The heat through the glove was like a furnace, the clenching walls a fluttering vise feeling her heartbeat. Darcy had forgotten the awe of fisting a partner, the slow opening and acceptance of her entire hand. She paused in her ministrations, letting Nat catch her breath, “Princess,” Darcy said, softly but with mirth, “I believe I may have my hand well in pussy”

“You don’t,” Nat paused, panting, “say?”

“Yep. I do say,” Darcy confirmed as she reapplied the vibe. With the barest turn of her wrist, Darcy had Nat moaning, pleasure hitting her date in long undulating waves. It thrilled her to watch the spy’s muscles all go taut, arching upwards with each quarter turn. As much as Darcy was touching Natasha for the red-head’s pleasure, there was so much power in such a small motion that she was flying high on endorphins from the power trip alone. “You’re so fucking gorgeous,” Darcy said in a reverent tone.

Natasha said, “Get up here. I want a kiss”

“Yes, princess.” Darcy said but took her time complying. She let the seize and release of tension in Nat’s cunt ease her fist out. Natasha’s breathing stuttered and she gasped as Darcy’s hand was fully removed. Darcy peeled off the wet gloves, then crawled up to obey the lovely pillow princess’ demand. The requested kiss was sweet and slow. Widow wrapped her arms around Darcy’s shoulders, pulling the younger woman flush against her. What could have reignited the fires of passion was tempered by their exhaustion. They cuddled together, enjoying the silence between them.

As Darcy kissed Widow’s sweaty temple, Natasha said, “Thank you.”

“Anytime,” Darcy replied easily, leaving another soft kiss on her cheek.

“I’ll hold you to that, malen'kaya mysh.”

—

“Hey Thor! Head’s up!” Darcy shouted from across the Avenger tower kitchen.

Thor looked up and managed to catch a box being tossed his way. It was a package of Red Velvet pop tarts, the last flavor he’d had on his short list of favorites.

Thanks again, enjoy your pop tarts. The final courting was phenomenal,” Darcy said rushing past. “I can’t say for dinner, I have a date with Jennifer-,”

The elevator dings and Thor’s eyes widen

“- and Sif,” Darcy concluded. “Hey you two! Ready to try to break a Hulk-proof bed frame?”

Jennifer laughed. “There is no try, there is only do.”

Sif gave a short wave to Thor as the elevator shut on the trio, leaving him bemused with his pop tarts.