Chapter 4
Phil Coulson wasn’t a man who rushed things.
He had built his career on patience, precision, and always having a plan. But when it came to Darcy Lewis, all of that went out the window.
It had been a year since their first night together—a year of stolen moments, late-night missions, and more than a few near-discoveries that could have made things very awkward in SHIELD briefings.
Darcy had somehow wedged herself into every part of his life—his work, his mind, and most dangerously, his heart.
So, he decided.
He was going to marry her.
The how was the tricky part.
Darcy wasn’t the traditional type. She didn’t want some elaborate setup, some grand speech. She would probably laugh in his face if he did anything too sentimental.
Which is why, after several drafts of a proposal plan—including one that involved a holographic briefing with the words "Operation: Pop the Question"—he finally settled on the one place Darcy would least expect it.
Their usual coffee run.
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It was a rare day off for them both, which meant coffee, bagels, and an aggressive debate over whether Die Hard was a Christmas movie.
(It was. Coulson was right. She was wrong. She just refused to admit it.)
Darcy sat across from him, sipping her overpriced macchiato, her hair slightly messy from the wind, her eyes sparkling with mischief.
“Okay, hear me out,” she said, waving her bagel for emphasis. “If Die Hard is a Christmas movie, then Iron Man 3 is also a Christmas movie.”
Coulson sighed. “That is not how this works.”
Darcy smirked. “Oh, I’m sorry, did I just outlogic you?”
He smiled, shaking his head. “I have a counterargument.”
She leaned forward. “Hit me.”
Coulson reached into his pocket, pulling out a small velvet box and setting it in front of her.
Darcy blinked. “Uh. That’s not a counterargument.”
“Open it.”
She hesitated for a beat before flipping the box open—then immediately snapped it shut.
Her head shot up. “Phil.”
He just gave her that infuriatingly calm, Coulson-esque smile. “Darcy.”
She peeked inside again, as if the ring might disappear if she looked too fast. “You’re serious?”
“Completely.”
Darcy stared at him, searching for some sign that this was a prank, that SHIELD had finally built a life-model decoy of him just to mess with her.
“Why?” she finally asked, her voice softer.
Coulson reached across the table, brushing his thumb over her knuckles.
“Because somehow, in between nearly getting us killed and breaking into classified files, you managed to make me happier than I’ve ever been,” he said, his voice steady. “And I’d really like to keep doing this—with you—for the rest of my life.”
Darcy swallowed hard. “Phil, I—”
And then she launched across the table, knocking over her coffee in the process as she kissed him hard.
“Is that a yes?” he murmured against her lips.
She grinned. “It’s a hell yes.”