Darcy/Steve 7
Darcy practically dove into the large common area, securing herself in a corner between an end table and the side of the couch. She looked up to where Steve was watching her with a very amused expression on his face. “You haven’t seen me,” she hissed, making herself as small as she could.
She crouched there, knees to her chest, arms wrapped around her legs, head down, just waiting. It seemed like forever, but at last Steve said, “Haven’t seen her. Sorry.” Steve was a lot cooler about lying than she thought he’d be.
“All clear,” he said after another few seconds, and Darcy unfolded herself and climbed out of her little hiding place.
Despite his announcement that it was clear, she was still peering around for any sight of Clint. Not seeing him, she walked over to the couch and flopped down next to Steve.
He was fully relaxed, one foot crossed over the other knee, book open across his lap. She couldn’t see the cover, but it looked like something fiction-y, with dialogue and stuff. “Thanks,” she told him, arranging herself in a very similar pose. “I owe you.” She’d rather be sitting on him, but she wasn’t about to be picky.
“No problem. What’s that all about?”
“Water fight. Only I managed to be disarmed and now Clint’s coming for me.”
One eyebrow went up, and one corner of his mouth, like he was in complete disbelief. “You were disarmed?”
“Yeah, it’s…” Darcy pressed her lips together, because there was no way she was telling Steve that her water gun had dropped because she was Butterfingers and it had slid under the fridge. She’d be able to get it. You know, later. When Clint wasn’t on the hunt anymore.
Suddenly she was being drenched with water. Fucking Clint. And, of course, not a single drop was getting on Steve. She threw her arms up in front of her at first, but then grimly accepted her fate. It was over.
When he’d emptied his ammunition, Clint strode over and tossed her florescent orange gun into her lap. “It helps if you don’t drop your weapon,” he said with a grin and a wink before sauntering off.
There was nothing really to say to that. Sighing, Darcy turned back to Steve. Who looked a little… Dazed. His eyes quickly rose to her face and she could see the red staining his cheeks.
Water. White shirt. Right. Dignity all pretty much already gone, she looked straight at him and forced a smile. “So… Dinner maybe?”