take it easy
cherry garcia days
rating: g
characters: Darcy Lewis, Natasha Romanoff
warnings: none
summary: The Lewis family prescription for feeling poorly: ice cream and bed rest. (Darcy would like to add 'movies' because hello, that's one of the beautiful things about the modern age. God bless Netflix.)
Darcy gives Natasha her best stern glare, the one said to make Jane leave off her thirty-six hour science marathons and guilt-trip Erik into eating something more solid than oatmeal for dinner. The spy remains unshaken by it until she sneezes in rapid succession, the sound absurdly loud in the hallway, and has to wipe her watering eyes.
"In the bed. Now," Darcy orders, and Natasha obeys with the slightest hint of a smile.
She has never understood the concept of curling up in bed when sick; while rest has benefits, the comfort most seem to draw from the simple act has always eluded her. Perhaps it’s simply that she’s never had a safe space to escape to, where the world will not find her and demand more than her aching body is capable of.
Jane’s spare bedroom, bedecked in warm colors and a handmade quilt, feels almost like a home.
"Better. Now, what do you want to watch? That new Mission Impossible movie is on, or that one with the snails and racing. Turbid? Turbo? Something like that.” Darcy plops onto the covers next to her, TV remote in one hand.
"Do you know how many men would be scared stiff to be in your position?" Natasha asks, bemused.
"Yeah, well, if I was scared of everything or everyone that could kill me, I’d never stop being afraid. I lived in New Mexico in the summer. Do you know how many things want to kill you in New Mexico? One word: scorpions." She shudders. "So, hot guys, and gal, kicking ass, or animated crustaceans?"
"They’re molluscs, actually." Over the pressure from her sinuses that is relentless and increasing, Natasha watches Darcy flip through the lists of available movies.
"Huh. Super spies it is. And just so we’re clear, I really don’t care how bad the action is, unless you can teach me how to do it right. Now eat your Ben and Jerry’s and relax, damn it." The cheerful tone belies her orders.
For a few minutes they sit in silence, scooping out spoonfuls of smooth ice cream and watching Tom Cruise break out of prison in typical sweaty and attractive fashion. At last, the sheets warm against her skin and the sugar sweet on her tongue, Natasha glances over at Darcy and raises an eyebrow.
"Is cuddling typically part of a sick day?"
"Nope, bonus package for Avengers only," Darcy replies, wiggling into the blanket. "Now shush, this Renner dude is delicious."
Natasha looks back at the TV, her lips curving upwards of their own accord, and settles into the sensation of peace.
rating: g
characters: Darcy Lewis, Natasha Romanoff
warnings: none
summary: The Lewis family prescription for feeling poorly: ice cream and bed rest. (Darcy would like to add 'movies' because hello, that's one of the beautiful things about the modern age. God bless Netflix.)
Darcy gives Natasha her best stern glare, the one said to make Jane leave off her thirty-six hour science marathons and guilt-trip Erik into eating something more solid than oatmeal for dinner. The spy remains unshaken by it until she sneezes in rapid succession, the sound absurdly loud in the hallway, and has to wipe her watering eyes.
"In the bed. Now," Darcy orders, and Natasha obeys with the slightest hint of a smile.
She has never understood the concept of curling up in bed when sick; while rest has benefits, the comfort most seem to draw from the simple act has always eluded her. Perhaps it’s simply that she’s never had a safe space to escape to, where the world will not find her and demand more than her aching body is capable of.
Jane’s spare bedroom, bedecked in warm colors and a handmade quilt, feels almost like a home.
"Better. Now, what do you want to watch? That new Mission Impossible movie is on, or that one with the snails and racing. Turbid? Turbo? Something like that.” Darcy plops onto the covers next to her, TV remote in one hand.
"Do you know how many men would be scared stiff to be in your position?" Natasha asks, bemused.
"Yeah, well, if I was scared of everything or everyone that could kill me, I’d never stop being afraid. I lived in New Mexico in the summer. Do you know how many things want to kill you in New Mexico? One word: scorpions." She shudders. "So, hot guys, and gal, kicking ass, or animated crustaceans?"
"They’re molluscs, actually." Over the pressure from her sinuses that is relentless and increasing, Natasha watches Darcy flip through the lists of available movies.
"Huh. Super spies it is. And just so we’re clear, I really don’t care how bad the action is, unless you can teach me how to do it right. Now eat your Ben and Jerry’s and relax, damn it." The cheerful tone belies her orders.
For a few minutes they sit in silence, scooping out spoonfuls of smooth ice cream and watching Tom Cruise break out of prison in typical sweaty and attractive fashion. At last, the sheets warm against her skin and the sugar sweet on her tongue, Natasha glances over at Darcy and raises an eyebrow.
"Is cuddling typically part of a sick day?"
"Nope, bonus package for Avengers only," Darcy replies, wiggling into the blanket. "Now shush, this Renner dude is delicious."
Natasha looks back at the TV, her lips curving upwards of their own accord, and settles into the sensation of peace.