Chapter 8
Outside the building the air was cool. There was a hint of moisture hanging in the air and a comfortable light breeze blowing. Natasha and Darcy walked side by side back down the mostly empty street to the parking lot.
The skyscrapers were all lit up like humongous Christmas trees.
Still thrilled by their victory Darcy regaled an amused Natasha with stories of her previous escape rooms. Like the time she and her old college friend had made it with just 52 seconds to spare and that other time she had dragged Jane to a room and they had stumbled upon solutions to half the clues by accident. The drive back to the compound was mostly quiet except for the brief period when 'Eye of the Tiger' came on the radio and Darcy was compelled to sing the whole thing. It was basically a law she had explained to Natasha.
The Russian parked the car with superb skill and they made their way inside and over to the elevators. At the metal doors Natasha paused and turned to Darcy.
"This was a date, right?" She demanded seriously.
Darcy flushed a little.
But, this was fine. Good even. This stupid indecisive waffling wasn't Darcy's usual style either. "I was hoping you would like it to be." She confessed and hopped against hope that this wasn't destined to crash and burn.
If Natasha was asking that was a good thing, right?
'Please let it be a good thing.'
Natasha nodded, green eye fluorescent and catlike in the low light. "Good. Then we need to talk." She said, clicking the elevators call button swiftly.
The ride up past in silence. Natasha stood boldly in the center with her arms crossed. Darcy whipped her sweaty hands on the insides of her pockets from the corner. When they stepped out, Darcy dutifully followed after the spy.
They came up Clint, Flacon, and War Machine, avidly discussing some sports game down one of the halls.
As Natasha stomped passed Falcon broke off the boy's conversation to greet them. "What's going on with you two?" he asked curiously. Clint's eyes flickered from Natasha to Darcy with a pleased expression on his face. War Machine quickly stepped out of Natasha unfaltering path. "They're dating" Clint smirked with his hands in his pockets.
"Right. At least, I think we might be?" Darcy confirmed, quickly following after the unpausing red head.
"Wait, what?" Falcon cried after them.
Down another hallway Natasha unlocked an unmarked door. Darcy set cautious feet inside, and her eyes widened when she realized this must be Natasha’s room. Infinitely curious she peered around the space. It was mostly bland, beige walls and soft cream carpet. Here and there however were specks of Natasha; a pair of white slippers with little bows on top were tucked beside the bed, a shoe rack filled with knives hung off the back of her closet door, and a lilac scented candle was placed on her armoire. Natasha turned to face her and the two woman stood a few feet apart. Natasha's eyes dark and determined. "Just to be clear, I'll ask again. Do you wish to engage in a relationship with me? Even knowing all the risks that will entail?"
"I-yeah. Yes."
The other woman's face softened a little but she didn't step closer. "I've done a lot of bad things, Darcy. More than you can imagine. Killed a lot of people. I'm trying to do the right things now but that doesn't erase the things I did." She stated bluntly. "And I am still involved in a lot of high risk missions. That's not going to stop."
The brunette shook her head, "I know that. That's not why- I know. And I get it. Or I get it as much as it's possible to."
"And you want to try this anyway?"
Darcy sighed. "I do but- if we’re going to try and make this something then you have to know…" she trailed off. In the wake of Natasha's speech her own hesitations felt…hollow. Stupid.
The tension had drained from Natasha shoulders. She moved a step closer, hands falling from their crossed position and she tilted her head in invitation. Darcy tapped her foot in stress and shifted uncomfortably.
When Natasha could talk so bluntly, so openly about the things she had done- the whole thing felt so stupid. It was just that this was always the hardest part. The teeter over the precipice. An inevitable hole that might swallow her.
It was never simple, it was never smooth. Ever. Every damn time she did this she had to give a goddamn seminar about what she the hell she was talking about. It sucked. It sucked all kinds of dick, she thought ironically. And the last time she had tried something like this? That had been a lesson in spectacular disaster.
She swallowed and pried her mouth open through force of will, "I'm asexual. Autochorissexual specifically. Panromantic."
Jaw achingly tight she forced herself to keep talking because those words were never enough. No one ever knew what they meant. "It means I enjoy a good book of erotica and a night with myself but I'm never ever going to want to have sex with you- or anyone else. It means sex is hot as long as it's imagined and those fantasies don't include myself. Ever." Darcy kept her eyes on the top of Natasha's head. She'd never noticed before but she was actually an inch or so taller than the assassin.
Keep talking Darcy, just keep talking.
"No it's not a hormone imbalance. It's not that I've only had bad sex. I just have no interest and actually find it kind of repulsive IRL. Your gorgeous, I know that. It doesn't matter. I won't ever want you like that."
"So what do you want?"
Darcy swallowed again. After the last time, she had sworn never to date anyone unless they were asexual too. What could she offer Natasha that would bridge this gap, replace this thing everyone else seemed to think was so absolutely crucial?
"Us. Hanging out. Snuggling. Just…being together." There was so much more than that in Darcy's mind but the words were so hard to find. Trusting each other, whispering secrets together in the dark, brushing each other’s hair, curling close together by a fire. Knowing you would have someone there beside you, someone to trust, even if everything else was going to shit. Intimacy could be found so many other ways. She knew this, she knew it. Felt it in her bones. It was just that no one else seemed to get it. Not if they were going to be denied the one thing Darcy wouldn't give them.
One of Natasha small hands came up and gently ran through Darcy's dark hair and their eyes finally regained contact. The spy was quiet, thoughtful…considering Darcy's speech seriously. And Darcy finds she’s almost relieved, that she’s not just being brushed off or hollowly ensured.
"I have murdered people. Manipulated and killed those who opened their hearts to me...that is something I live with. Something I occasionally still have to do…If you can live with that…” Natasha trailed off. With a softly frustrated sigh Natasha stared at her. "If I wanted sex, I could find it anywhere," she said truthfully, "This- this is something more I think."
Darcy’s eyes were wet. She felt a little numb. "Are you sure about that? Because when I say never, I mean it. It won't ever happen. And I don't want to share-"
Natasha grabbed her wrist and slowly pulled her towards the bed. She pushed Darcy very gently by the shoulders on to the soft gray duvet.
Her mouth snapped shut as Natasha pulled first Darcy's shoes off, then her own. Natasha slid the lights down to low as Darcy's eyes followed her and then crawled up on the bed beside brunette. Hesitantly, and more then slow enough for Darcy to pull away if she wanted, Natasha wrapped herself around her.
"Is this okay?" Natasha asked quietly.
Darcy gripped onto one of Natasha's hand, "Yeah. This…this is better than okay."
-….-….-…-
Darcy's was beginning her junior year of college when she met him in Animal Behavior 101. They had hit it off so well at first, trading meme's and dirty jokes as easily as breath. It was the second time in her life that Darcy had ever been interested in having a romantic relationship with someone and the first time since she found the label 'asexual' online in her senior year of high school.
Things went well for a while of course.
It’s a few weeks into their tentative relationship when she tells him that she's asexual. He doesn't understand really, has never heard the term except for asexual reproduction. Things are a little awkward afterward but Darcy had expected that. She sent him an email with a list of sites and resources- things to help him understand who she is and that it had absolutely nothing to do with him. That she still loved him. Then she stepped back and gave him space- waits to hear if he can still love her.
Things seem to sort themselves out though and she was dizzy with relief.
When he invites to a concert with a group of his friends, she thought they had passed the hurdle. He picked her up and they drove to his house to meet up with a group of his friends. Together they all piled into the biggest car and took off for the stadium. The concert was tons of fun; loud music, booze, and dancing. It was after that the problems start.
They all drove back to his house and his friends all took off, one by one, until it was just him and her. Then he tells her he's too tired to drive her home.
At first she's irritated because she has class in the early morning, which she had explicitly told him. He had promised to get her back to the dorm. Said it wouldn't be a problem. Then she's furious because he suggests she just stay the night with him…in his bed.
Warning bells flash in her mind and she calls her mom to come pick her up. Her mom drives her back to the dorm and it's three A.M. by the time she crawls back into her room. Her roommate is fast asleep. Darcy runs water over her face in the dark and crawls into bed. She rolls over to face the wall and feels…dirty.
And her thoughts run in circles.
Had he done that on purpose? Had he purposely set her up to try and trap her at his house? Was it her fault for not being affectionate enough? Had he even meant anything malicious by it all? Was she just over reacting because it was a topic that was so sensitive to her?
The next day her social media feeds have exploded- anonymously sent pictures of porn, messaged telling her she's a bitch and should kill herself. Gossip spreads through the school like strangling ivy.
She deletes all her social media accounts and drops her science class.
When she continues to ignore the rumors, things escalate. The first time she opens her dorm door to find it covered in post-it notes of hate, she closes the door again and skips class to buy a taser.
She never spoke to him after that and when things at the school continue to be awful she transfers. She gets new social media accounts and takes an internship to make up for the lost science credits. She meets Jane and then Thor and all of her previous problems become distant memories except within the deepest parts of her heart.
-….-….-…-
Waking up snuggled up in Natasha's arms had to be the best feeling in the entire world.
For the life of her she couldn't imagine anything matching up to it. She was snuggled up with the Black Widow. With Natasha, she thought happily as her eyes creaked open. She hadn't slept that well in years and the warm heat was only encouraging her to fall back asleep. It was still pretty dark in the room but there was a dull light coming from somewhere nearby. She blinked a little.
"What are you looking at?" Darcy muttered, still in a sleepy haze.
Natasha was propped mostly upright on a mound of pillows. Her curly hair a tangled mess and the slightest smudge of eyeliner under her eyes. One of her hands was still under the blankets, caught up in the tangled mess of limbs and bedding. The other was scrolling slowly down her phone screen.
"I'm gathering intel."
In contrast Natasha sounded completely awake. Darcy frowned a bit- had Natasha slept at all? Maybe she didn't rest well with others wrapped around her. That would make sense right?
It sounded suspiciously like the sort of thing a paranoid super spy wouldn't enjoy.
Slowly, attempting to act like she wasn't completely embarrassed by having slept soundly and unwantedly on top of a woman she very, very much liked; Darcy began to roll away and detangle herself from the limbs and sheets.
"Do you need the bathroom?"
Darcy froze. "What?-um. No?"
"Then stay."
Natasha finally looked up from her screen to meet Darcy's eyes.
Darcy hesitantly leaned back on the bed again. Natasha cocked her head to the side, clicking her phone dark. The room was plunged into the shadowed light of early dawn- only the beginning tendrils of the sunrise lighting the clouds. The A.C. still felt like it was running full blast but it was warm and soft under the covers.
"Do you consider kissing to be sexual?"
"Uh- Wha?"
"I want to know where your boundaries stand. Based on our current positions I can assume that you enjoy cuddling well enough. What about kissing?"
No one had ever asked her that that kind of thing before.
Darcy closed her eyes, feeling the swell of emotion bubbling in her chest. It was something between sorrow and the highest of joys.
It was the type of question she had spent a lot of time thinking about once she had realized she was asexual. What did she want? What could she stand? Kissing was a tricky subject. She liked the way it looked in movies most of the time. She fantasized about characters kissing each other, sometimes in her dreams- fantasized even about herself. Dreamed about kissing and enjoying it.
But reality was never like her dreams. Darcy had been kissed quite a few times in her life. When her first few kisses with men sent her stomach rolling, Darcy had thought the problem might be the men in the equation. So she'd tried a few times with woman. It had been no less gross- the wet sodden lips pushing against her own. It was…vile.
"I don't mind like, pecks on the checks or even on the lips. As long as it's like, brief, and not like, making out. Tongue is just…no." She stuttered.
Was Natasha going to kiss her?
But she didn't. The other woman just nodded.
"Alright then." She was quite for a moment. The green eyes roamed thoughtfully over Darcy's face. "Most people don't wake up when they go to bed beside me." Natasha contemplated curiously.
Morning Natasha was more talkative than Darcy had ever seen her.
"So you really do the 'black widow' type killing stuff too?"
Natasha gave a half hum and a half sigh. "I told you I've done a lot of bad things. Some of it for very bad people. Does that bother you?"
Darcy considered honestly for a moment.
On the one hand, yeah. It was scary as fuck to think about the things the Black Widow must have done to earn her skills and reputation. On the other, Darcy was best friends with a thousands of year old god who had more than once gleefully described, in great detail, what it felt like to have a man's head crack into mush under the weight of a swung hammer. And no matter how good she was, it was actually highly unlikely that Natasha's body count was higher than Thor's.
"I can't have children either."
Darcy pushed up onto her forearms in surprise.
As almost always, Natasha's voice was casual and blunt. "They sterilize you. In the Red Room, where I was trained." Darcy found the hand Natasha still had under the blanket and squeezed gently, unsure of what to say. "It made missions easier. One less thing to worry about…Still…" The woman trailed off.
Darcy linked the fingers of their hands together.
"…thank you…for telling me." Darcy whispered back carefully.
Natasha tilted her head, a smile curling fondly around her lips.
"You missed movie night." Darcy says suddenly. "Want to watch one now?"
Slipping her hand from Darcy's, Natasha unfurled gracefully from the bed. She was still dressed in the jeans and black shirt from yesterday. The woman sauntered over to her closet as Darcy forced herself from her cocoon of warmth. In agreement to meet up again in the movie room, Darcy meandered back to her room to change while Natasha brushed her teeth and slipped into sweatpants.
By the time Darcy made it to the living room, knitting bag in hand as she was almost done with her little gift for Tony, Natasha had a movie on pause and was fetching a blanket from one of the chests.
Darcy sat down on the couch and jumped a little in pleasant surprise when Natasha returned and sat beside her, turned and propped the back of her knees over the couches arm and let her head lay in Darcy's lap. The brunette slowly raised a hand to run though the locks of curly red hair as the blanket was unfolded.
The two settled in deeper as the movie was resumed. Darcy almost laughed out loud when she realized what Natasha had chosen; Hot Fuzz.
They were maybe twenty minutes in before someone else found them.
"Tasha!" the voice of Clint called from behind them.
Darcy froze. Did Natasha want other people knowing they were together? They were together now, right? That was a thing now?
Face fixed on the screen Natasha raised a foot and waived it daintily in greeting.
Okay so apparently being seen like this was okay.
Darcy hesitated and then shook her head. She was over thinking this. "Do you want to join us?"
Clint glanced at the screen, looked briefly at Natasha, and then smiled back at Darcy. "Sure." He shrugged.
It had been awhile since she had last seen Clint, Darcy realized looking at him as he sat down. A good long while in fact. She would have thought the two of them had been out on a mission together but a cursory glance told Darcy that that was unlikely. Clint was sporting a fairly decent tan that had turned him a golden-ish color. Natasha meanwhile had maintained her pale skin. Also, Clint usually came back from missions with at least one noticeable injury- of which there were currently none.
On the screen something exploded into a ball of blazing fire. "Just like Budapest." Clint remarked fondly.
On Darcy's lap Natasha hummed absentmindedly. "You and I remember Budapest very differently." She said in tone that Darcy immediately knew was loaded with some double meaning.
"What happened in Budapest?"
Clint gave Natasha a flickering look.
The red head stretched and turned slightly like an overgrown cat, almost purring in contentment. She must have given Clint some kind of kind of look in return though because he grinned and leaned forward on his forearms. Natasha captured one of Darcy's dropped hands and put it back on her hair, evidently her sign that she wished the head scratching to continue.
"Alright, so, we get dropped off by helicopter a couple hundred miles north of Budapest by the Danube River. And things go it shit almost immediately. See, what happened was-"
-….-….-…-
For everything being different now, things stayed remarkably the same.
After making them grovel for a good long while, Jane finally consented to attend some conference in Iceland in a few weeks. Darcy, as her ever faithful assistant would be joining her.
Natasha managed to stick around the compound for a few days before she was called in for something or rather in Europe.
They text when they can but it kind of sucks being apart.
(The night Darcy finished the coding, she called Natasha. It was 3 A.M. but Black Widow answers anyway and they talk for hours. “I- I don’t even really know how I did this. It’s fricken crazy. But I think it might also, like, be perfect.” "I knew you would do it, Зайка," “The thing is, I think I’m going to need your help. Getting it to him. I wanted to give it to him before we left but it just wasn’t finished and-” “Зайка, I’ll take care of it.”)
It’s only five days later that everything really goes to shit again and the Avengers fall apart.