Fic: Primadonna (2/?)
Title: Primadonna
Pairings/Characters: Darcy Lewis/Tony Stark, Darcy Lewis/Clint Barton; all Avengers
Rating: R
Warnings: Avengers spoilers, some swears, sexy stuff (but nothing explicit...yet)
Word Count: 2,251
Part 1
The elevator doors opened and Darcy stepped out, deciding to ignore Clint. She stalked off towards the front desk, where she saw Tony and a tall redhead laughing together.
The redhead turned, and God...she was so different. Not only was she tall, she was slim and wore a chic grey blazer, pencil skirt and the pointiest high heels Darcy had ever seen.
Darcy realized her mouth was open and clamped it shut and tried to smile.
“Pepper, this is Darcy Lewis,” Tony regarded Darcy.
“Nice to finally meet you, I meant to come earlier, but --”
“No, it's fine. I'm, so -” Humbled? Darcy searched for a word but only felt awkward. “Happy to meet you.”
---
Tony dismissed Darcy soon after, telling her to have some fun while he was gone. Gone meaning he was on a date and wasn't likely to return her calls that night if something came up.
So Darcy bought as much vodka as she could carry and did several stupid things in the meantime.
---
Darcy persuaded an impromptu Avengers meet-up in the TV below Tony's penthouse. Captain America - uh, Steve, was just there out of curiosity; there was a Seinfeld marathon and he was only just beginning to catch up with the pop culture references.
Thor was off in New Mexico (“I know it probably takes him zero time at all to get to Jane via Molner-” “Mjölnir,” Tony interjected. “--but I hope for his and Jane's sakes he doesn't get too many bugs in his teeth before they make out together in the desert.”), and Natasha outright refused.
It was just Darcy in a Captain America and Hawkeye sandwich. Things could be worse.
Darcy poured shots. “Every time you see Jerry with white sneakers, take a shot.”
“I don't want any, thanks,” Steve looked down at his shot glass, troubled by Darcy's assistance.
“Fine,” Darcy said, and snatched it from him before throwing it back.
Clint stared at her.
“What? I'm just warming up.”
“You sound like Tony,” Clint muttered, and Steve even smirked at that.
Darcy rolled her eyes dramatically. “Do not mention Tony Stark to me tonight.”
---
Steve left Clint and Darcy on the couch after a couple hours, saying something about reading, but Darcy wasn't sure. She'd forgotten how many drinks she'd had, and by that point, she'd just been taking greedy swigs from the bottle, not caring about manners or behaving properly in front of co-workers. She was sick of trying so hard to be liked.
“Hey, slow down on the sauce, babe.”
Clint actually took the bottle from her. Darcy blushed and then glared at him.
“I'm fine. Jesus,” she snapped, though she wasn't. She noticed Clint's arm was around her shoulder.
“What's that doing there?”
“You don't mind?”
“No.”
Darcy considers moving away, but thinks, fuck it, and places a hand on Clint's knee. The TV blares but neither of them are taking it in. The tension in the air is broken when Clint lifts his arm off from Darcy and takes her hand off him awkwardly.
“That was stupid,” he said, more to himself than Darcy.
She pouted. “Oh, come on. We've been going along with this forever, man. And besides -” she grabbed the vodka bottle back and took a gulp. She shuddered, momentarily lost for words.
“What?”
Darcy closed her eyes and opened them slowly, gazing up at Clint through her lashes.
“I know you want me,” she purred.
Clint's reaction was just a slight movement in his jaw, his hands fists resting on his knees. Darcy liked to watch him squirm. She was getting back at him for teasing her before.
She leant even closer to him still, and placed a slightly shaking hand on his thigh, slowly moving up while her mouth was just beside Clint's ear. Her hand came to rest on his crotch.
“I know you want to fuck me.”
Clint turned his head just slightly, dark-eyed. “Darcy, stop it.”
“Why? You don't like me?”
God, she hated herself for talking like that, but that was how she felt. Vulnerable and slightly desperate. She was so far gone, too. That didn't help her judgement. This was probably the least classy thing she'd ever done, forcing herself onto a guy.
“You're really drunk.”
Clint placed his hands on her wrists and physically pushed her away, even if it was just gentle and not meant to cause any harm, his touch burned her.
“You don't want me,” she said, and fucking hell, she thought she might cry.
Clint didn't say anything, he just looked at her with furrowed eyebrows, studying her.
“HEY!”
Gazes averted to Tony, who looked livid.
“Barton, what the fuck did you do to her?”
“Nothing.”
Tony marched over to the couch and stood over Clint.
“Nothing,” Clint insisted, before he stood up to leave.
Clint left without another word, Tony staring daggers at his retreating back.
---
“So, you and Clint.”
Tony said it more like a statement than a question. Hell, it was that obvious. He'd probably seen nothing but Hawkeye and a cat in heat perched on the leather couch, not his assistant.
Tony was nursing a scotch while Darcy continued on her vodka binge as they stood on the balcony.
Well, Tony could stand. Darcy sort of swayed until she sunk to the floor beside him, cross-legged.
“Hmm. It's stupid. He's a liar.”
“Don't worry about it, kid. Him and Natasha are basically... well, I don't know what. But don't take it personally.”
“Don't call me kid! I'm definitely not a kid.”
Darcy didn't mean to come across as that bitter, but the vodka wasn't helping her composure.
They stayed silent for a moment or so. Darcy wasn't sure how fast time was passing.
“Why am I here?” she murmured. How was this her life, and not someone else's, someone who could really do a good job at this kind of thing, and keep their hands to themselves?
Tony frowned at that. He rarely did anything but smirk in Darcy's presence, so this was new.
“Because I asked you here,” he said, as if that was a good enough answer as any.
Darcy laughed in spite of herself. Tony watched her with curiosity. What was it with these fucking people and looking at her like a novelty?
“What now?” she slurred. “'Calm down, Darcy, you're being stupid'?”
Tony shook his head, for once keeping his mouth shut. It was a miracle.
“How was your date with Pepper? Can't have been any worse than mine with Clint,” Darcy muttered, emptying the vodka bottle and placing it beside her knee.
Tony didn't make eye contact. “Uh...”
“Hey, it's not my business, I get it. But you were the one yelling at Clint.”
“Yeah, because he made you cry.”
“I wasn't crying! I had something in my eye...”
Darcy looked at her hands. “She's really pretty, Pepper. I mean, so fucking pretty and calm it feels stupid that you'd ever consider me a replacement. And I'm not fishing or anything. I know what she looks like, what she is to you.”
Tony made some kind of irritated, strangling sound at the back of his throat and rubbed his eyes.
“It wasn't really much of a date, more like... a break-up, I guess.”
“Oh.”
“Yeah.”
“You should have told her no, done something stupid, like me.”
Tony actually laughed at that. “No... I've done enough to her. She deserves some time away from me.”
---
Darcy avoided Clint for a few days, but if she was honest about it, she wasn't sure whether he was avoiding her, too. He had the knack of disappearing and reappearing from wherever he went without warning, sometimes for whole days. The vent, or his nest, Darcy didn't mind where he was, just as long as she didn't have to see his face. Especially if Tony was present, too.
If only the universe would grant her this one thing.
---
Natasha confronted her one morning at her desk. It was probably the most frightening moment of Darcy's life at that point. Natasha was all fury in her eyes most of the time, anyway, but this time Darcy had known she'd done something wrong.
“Ah! I mean, hi,” Darcy babbled.
“Clint's been walking around like a dog with its tail between its legs.”
“I wouldn't know. He's been in hiding.”
“Clearly,” Natasha said, deadpan. “Should I tell him you're interested in someone else, and to grow a pair?”
Natasha's tone of voice gave no indication whether she cared too much.
“Uh, I guess.”
Darcy blushed and pretended to be reading a particularly engrossing expense report.
Natasha turned to leave, and Darcy couldn't help staring after her with a mixture of wonder and fear.
“Natasha, do you think he hates me?”
Natasha froze and turned back, eyes narrowing. “No.”
“Okay, that's... good.”
“Yes,” Natasha returned to her deadpan state. “For the record, neither do I.”
---
Jane calls a few days later. She sounds excited, but not manic like she could start spouting equations at Darcy, because they both knew well enough Darcy couldn't keep up with most of the science-y stuff that got Jane so amped up. Jane was obviously completely smitten.
“Just please don't tell me if Thor actually yells about his hammer in the throes of ecstasy.”
Jane sounded only slightly bashful as she giggled on the other end of the line.
“I'm expecting we may be having Thor's friends visiting soon. Those readings we got last week...”
“Wait, what readings? I didn't get a memo about that.”
“What? I confirmed with Coulson I could send this to Stark as soon as possible! What is wrong wth that guy?”
Darcy gripped the phone a little tighter and grit her teeth. “I could give you a list, but I think I'm just gonna hang up now. I have a future murder victim to visit.”
---
Darcy flicked Tony behind his ear once she got to Bruce's lab. Tony had been playing in there all morning.
“What's this about Jane's reading, huh?”
“Ow!”
Bruce stayed silent until Darcy rounded on him. “Hey! You're his accomplice! Why wasn't I told anything?”
“Don't hit him, Darce.”
Darcy pinched Bruce's arm, and he tensed. “I think Dr. Banner can take it.”
She stood with her arms crossed, tapping her foot impatiently. “Well?”
Tony rubbed his ear, the wuss. “It was inconclusive. There was a spark in the energy readings last week and Foster hasn't seen a pattern since. We're just keeping a correspondence.”
“You could let me in on this nerd newsletter every once in a while!” she yelled, hands in the air, just as Tony screamed, “Why are you yelling at me?!” with the same gesture.
“Fine! Don't keep me in the loop! Go to Hell!”
She stomped out, flipping the bird as the door slammed behind her.
Darcy may have been a little over-dramatic, but it got the point across.
---
Darcy woke to JARVIS' voice in the night.
“Miss Lewis,” the clear English accent broke threw her slumber.
“Ah-b'guh?” Darcy lifted her head just slightly from the pillow. “Wha--?”
“The Avengers are gathering downstairs. Mr. Stark requested your presence.”
“I'm sure he did,” Darcy mumbled, pulling a hoodie over her pyjamas and shuffling to the bathroom to quickly splash water on her face. “JARVIS, are The Avengers assembling?”
“I believe so, ma'am,” he said.
“Cool.”
Darcy was sure she had a goofy grin on her face as she walked out the door to the elevator.
---
Darcy hadn't been aware this was a costume party. Everyone except her and Tony were in some form of suit. Even Coulson was dressed in another identical suit of his, while Darcy was in her dowdy pyjamas, and barefoot.
And Clint had eye contact with her, too. Ah, that's just great.
“What's the situation?” Steve was the one to speak for everyone. Darcy couldn't help but stare at the red, white, and blue.
God Bless America.
“We're getting some reports in from the Pacific that a figure resembling Loki has shown up in town,” Coulson spoke calmly but everyone else visibly tensed. “He's been making threats, stealing some civilian vehicles.”
“Who knew the bastard knew how to drive?” Tony said, but he wasn't smiling.
The plan was to wait for Loki to show, and they didn't know when that could happen. From what Darcy had gathered since the Destroyer in New Mexico, his powerful magic was unpredictable, and it sounded like he'd got even stronger since he was last in New York.
For all she knew, he'd been imprisoned in Asgard by Thor's father.
Darcy noticed she was shaking when she made coffee for herself and sat at her desk, still in her pyjamas.
“You okay?”
She locked eyes with Tony, who'd been leaning again the desk, still without the Iron Man suit on.
“I will be, I'm sure,” Darcy lied, and her teeth started to chatter.
---
Notes: Hope you enjoyed this next chapter. I'm trying to not have too much happen too fast, so I'm stalling a Loki appearance for a little while. I hope Darcy's starting to become properly formed: I couldn't stop myself from making her a little insecure about her abilities. Anyway, thanks for reading.
Pairings/Characters: Darcy Lewis/Tony Stark, Darcy Lewis/Clint Barton; all Avengers
Rating: R
Warnings: Avengers spoilers, some swears, sexy stuff (but nothing explicit...yet)
Word Count: 2,251
Part 1
The elevator doors opened and Darcy stepped out, deciding to ignore Clint. She stalked off towards the front desk, where she saw Tony and a tall redhead laughing together.
The redhead turned, and God...she was so different. Not only was she tall, she was slim and wore a chic grey blazer, pencil skirt and the pointiest high heels Darcy had ever seen.
Darcy realized her mouth was open and clamped it shut and tried to smile.
“Pepper, this is Darcy Lewis,” Tony regarded Darcy.
“Nice to finally meet you, I meant to come earlier, but --”
“No, it's fine. I'm, so -” Humbled? Darcy searched for a word but only felt awkward. “Happy to meet you.”
---
Tony dismissed Darcy soon after, telling her to have some fun while he was gone. Gone meaning he was on a date and wasn't likely to return her calls that night if something came up.
So Darcy bought as much vodka as she could carry and did several stupid things in the meantime.
---
Darcy persuaded an impromptu Avengers meet-up in the TV below Tony's penthouse. Captain America - uh, Steve, was just there out of curiosity; there was a Seinfeld marathon and he was only just beginning to catch up with the pop culture references.
Thor was off in New Mexico (“I know it probably takes him zero time at all to get to Jane via Molner-” “Mjölnir,” Tony interjected. “--but I hope for his and Jane's sakes he doesn't get too many bugs in his teeth before they make out together in the desert.”), and Natasha outright refused.
It was just Darcy in a Captain America and Hawkeye sandwich. Things could be worse.
Darcy poured shots. “Every time you see Jerry with white sneakers, take a shot.”
“I don't want any, thanks,” Steve looked down at his shot glass, troubled by Darcy's assistance.
“Fine,” Darcy said, and snatched it from him before throwing it back.
Clint stared at her.
“What? I'm just warming up.”
“You sound like Tony,” Clint muttered, and Steve even smirked at that.
Darcy rolled her eyes dramatically. “Do not mention Tony Stark to me tonight.”
---
Steve left Clint and Darcy on the couch after a couple hours, saying something about reading, but Darcy wasn't sure. She'd forgotten how many drinks she'd had, and by that point, she'd just been taking greedy swigs from the bottle, not caring about manners or behaving properly in front of co-workers. She was sick of trying so hard to be liked.
“Hey, slow down on the sauce, babe.”
Clint actually took the bottle from her. Darcy blushed and then glared at him.
“I'm fine. Jesus,” she snapped, though she wasn't. She noticed Clint's arm was around her shoulder.
“What's that doing there?”
“You don't mind?”
“No.”
Darcy considers moving away, but thinks, fuck it, and places a hand on Clint's knee. The TV blares but neither of them are taking it in. The tension in the air is broken when Clint lifts his arm off from Darcy and takes her hand off him awkwardly.
“That was stupid,” he said, more to himself than Darcy.
She pouted. “Oh, come on. We've been going along with this forever, man. And besides -” she grabbed the vodka bottle back and took a gulp. She shuddered, momentarily lost for words.
“What?”
Darcy closed her eyes and opened them slowly, gazing up at Clint through her lashes.
“I know you want me,” she purred.
Clint's reaction was just a slight movement in his jaw, his hands fists resting on his knees. Darcy liked to watch him squirm. She was getting back at him for teasing her before.
She leant even closer to him still, and placed a slightly shaking hand on his thigh, slowly moving up while her mouth was just beside Clint's ear. Her hand came to rest on his crotch.
“I know you want to fuck me.”
Clint turned his head just slightly, dark-eyed. “Darcy, stop it.”
“Why? You don't like me?”
God, she hated herself for talking like that, but that was how she felt. Vulnerable and slightly desperate. She was so far gone, too. That didn't help her judgement. This was probably the least classy thing she'd ever done, forcing herself onto a guy.
“You're really drunk.”
Clint placed his hands on her wrists and physically pushed her away, even if it was just gentle and not meant to cause any harm, his touch burned her.
“You don't want me,” she said, and fucking hell, she thought she might cry.
Clint didn't say anything, he just looked at her with furrowed eyebrows, studying her.
“HEY!”
Gazes averted to Tony, who looked livid.
“Barton, what the fuck did you do to her?”
“Nothing.”
Tony marched over to the couch and stood over Clint.
“Nothing,” Clint insisted, before he stood up to leave.
Clint left without another word, Tony staring daggers at his retreating back.
---
“So, you and Clint.”
Tony said it more like a statement than a question. Hell, it was that obvious. He'd probably seen nothing but Hawkeye and a cat in heat perched on the leather couch, not his assistant.
Tony was nursing a scotch while Darcy continued on her vodka binge as they stood on the balcony.
Well, Tony could stand. Darcy sort of swayed until she sunk to the floor beside him, cross-legged.
“Hmm. It's stupid. He's a liar.”
“Don't worry about it, kid. Him and Natasha are basically... well, I don't know what. But don't take it personally.”
“Don't call me kid! I'm definitely not a kid.”
Darcy didn't mean to come across as that bitter, but the vodka wasn't helping her composure.
They stayed silent for a moment or so. Darcy wasn't sure how fast time was passing.
“Why am I here?” she murmured. How was this her life, and not someone else's, someone who could really do a good job at this kind of thing, and keep their hands to themselves?
Tony frowned at that. He rarely did anything but smirk in Darcy's presence, so this was new.
“Because I asked you here,” he said, as if that was a good enough answer as any.
Darcy laughed in spite of herself. Tony watched her with curiosity. What was it with these fucking people and looking at her like a novelty?
“What now?” she slurred. “'Calm down, Darcy, you're being stupid'?”
Tony shook his head, for once keeping his mouth shut. It was a miracle.
“How was your date with Pepper? Can't have been any worse than mine with Clint,” Darcy muttered, emptying the vodka bottle and placing it beside her knee.
Tony didn't make eye contact. “Uh...”
“Hey, it's not my business, I get it. But you were the one yelling at Clint.”
“Yeah, because he made you cry.”
“I wasn't crying! I had something in my eye...”
Darcy looked at her hands. “She's really pretty, Pepper. I mean, so fucking pretty and calm it feels stupid that you'd ever consider me a replacement. And I'm not fishing or anything. I know what she looks like, what she is to you.”
Tony made some kind of irritated, strangling sound at the back of his throat and rubbed his eyes.
“It wasn't really much of a date, more like... a break-up, I guess.”
“Oh.”
“Yeah.”
“You should have told her no, done something stupid, like me.”
Tony actually laughed at that. “No... I've done enough to her. She deserves some time away from me.”
---
Darcy avoided Clint for a few days, but if she was honest about it, she wasn't sure whether he was avoiding her, too. He had the knack of disappearing and reappearing from wherever he went without warning, sometimes for whole days. The vent, or his nest, Darcy didn't mind where he was, just as long as she didn't have to see his face. Especially if Tony was present, too.
If only the universe would grant her this one thing.
---
Natasha confronted her one morning at her desk. It was probably the most frightening moment of Darcy's life at that point. Natasha was all fury in her eyes most of the time, anyway, but this time Darcy had known she'd done something wrong.
“Ah! I mean, hi,” Darcy babbled.
“Clint's been walking around like a dog with its tail between its legs.”
“I wouldn't know. He's been in hiding.”
“Clearly,” Natasha said, deadpan. “Should I tell him you're interested in someone else, and to grow a pair?”
Natasha's tone of voice gave no indication whether she cared too much.
“Uh, I guess.”
Darcy blushed and pretended to be reading a particularly engrossing expense report.
Natasha turned to leave, and Darcy couldn't help staring after her with a mixture of wonder and fear.
“Natasha, do you think he hates me?”
Natasha froze and turned back, eyes narrowing. “No.”
“Okay, that's... good.”
“Yes,” Natasha returned to her deadpan state. “For the record, neither do I.”
---
Jane calls a few days later. She sounds excited, but not manic like she could start spouting equations at Darcy, because they both knew well enough Darcy couldn't keep up with most of the science-y stuff that got Jane so amped up. Jane was obviously completely smitten.
“Just please don't tell me if Thor actually yells about his hammer in the throes of ecstasy.”
Jane sounded only slightly bashful as she giggled on the other end of the line.
“I'm expecting we may be having Thor's friends visiting soon. Those readings we got last week...”
“Wait, what readings? I didn't get a memo about that.”
“What? I confirmed with Coulson I could send this to Stark as soon as possible! What is wrong wth that guy?”
Darcy gripped the phone a little tighter and grit her teeth. “I could give you a list, but I think I'm just gonna hang up now. I have a future murder victim to visit.”
---
Darcy flicked Tony behind his ear once she got to Bruce's lab. Tony had been playing in there all morning.
“What's this about Jane's reading, huh?”
“Ow!”
Bruce stayed silent until Darcy rounded on him. “Hey! You're his accomplice! Why wasn't I told anything?”
“Don't hit him, Darce.”
Darcy pinched Bruce's arm, and he tensed. “I think Dr. Banner can take it.”
She stood with her arms crossed, tapping her foot impatiently. “Well?”
Tony rubbed his ear, the wuss. “It was inconclusive. There was a spark in the energy readings last week and Foster hasn't seen a pattern since. We're just keeping a correspondence.”
“You could let me in on this nerd newsletter every once in a while!” she yelled, hands in the air, just as Tony screamed, “Why are you yelling at me?!” with the same gesture.
“Fine! Don't keep me in the loop! Go to Hell!”
She stomped out, flipping the bird as the door slammed behind her.
Darcy may have been a little over-dramatic, but it got the point across.
---
Darcy woke to JARVIS' voice in the night.
“Miss Lewis,” the clear English accent broke threw her slumber.
“Ah-b'guh?” Darcy lifted her head just slightly from the pillow. “Wha--?”
“The Avengers are gathering downstairs. Mr. Stark requested your presence.”
“I'm sure he did,” Darcy mumbled, pulling a hoodie over her pyjamas and shuffling to the bathroom to quickly splash water on her face. “JARVIS, are The Avengers assembling?”
“I believe so, ma'am,” he said.
“Cool.”
Darcy was sure she had a goofy grin on her face as she walked out the door to the elevator.
---
Darcy hadn't been aware this was a costume party. Everyone except her and Tony were in some form of suit. Even Coulson was dressed in another identical suit of his, while Darcy was in her dowdy pyjamas, and barefoot.
And Clint had eye contact with her, too. Ah, that's just great.
“What's the situation?” Steve was the one to speak for everyone. Darcy couldn't help but stare at the red, white, and blue.
God Bless America.
“We're getting some reports in from the Pacific that a figure resembling Loki has shown up in town,” Coulson spoke calmly but everyone else visibly tensed. “He's been making threats, stealing some civilian vehicles.”
“Who knew the bastard knew how to drive?” Tony said, but he wasn't smiling.
The plan was to wait for Loki to show, and they didn't know when that could happen. From what Darcy had gathered since the Destroyer in New Mexico, his powerful magic was unpredictable, and it sounded like he'd got even stronger since he was last in New York.
For all she knew, he'd been imprisoned in Asgard by Thor's father.
Darcy noticed she was shaking when she made coffee for herself and sat at her desk, still in her pyjamas.
“You okay?”
She locked eyes with Tony, who'd been leaning again the desk, still without the Iron Man suit on.
“I will be, I'm sure,” Darcy lied, and her teeth started to chatter.
---
Notes: Hope you enjoyed this next chapter. I'm trying to not have too much happen too fast, so I'm stalling a Loki appearance for a little while. I hope Darcy's starting to become properly formed: I couldn't stop myself from making her a little insecure about her abilities. Anyway, thanks for reading.