Summary: Darcy has been wanting something more for a while now, but she isn't sure if Clint will ever be willing to give.
Rating: Teen
Pairing: Clint Barton/ Darcy Lewis
Disclaimer: I don't own any of these characters. I just play with them.
A/N: Another in the Stark Family Secrets series. This takes place about 7 months before Pain Au Chocolat.
A/N2: f you haven't read that, just know that Darcy is Tony's daughter (and that fact is a secret in this 'verse). Had most of this written up for a while but wanted to finish Stark Family Secrets first. And it's another experiment with writing more flowery passages (at least in this chapter) and with writing feels. Sorry in advance for all the feels...

Love grows in me like a tumour.
Parasite bent on devouring its host.
I'm developing my sense of humour,
Till I can laugh at my heart between your teeth-
Till I can laugh at my face beneath your feet.

Skillet on the stove, it's such a temptation.
Maybe I'll be the lucky one that doesn't get burned...

What the fuck was I thinking?

-Fuck Was I, Jenny Owen Youngs

"So will you be at O'Conners tonight?" Clint asked. He was on his hands and knees at the edge of his bed, trying to fish out the belt that had been carelessly tossed away earlier. From the other side of the bed, Darcy watched carefully. They had decided to sneak into Stark Tower during their lunch break for a quick fuck. Like the other fucks of late, it had been fast and dirty, making Darcy feel just a little ashamed and completely used. Even if one itch was scratched, there was another insistent one that grew with every empty grunt and bruising grip of her hips.

Honestly, she was starting to wonder why they even bothered going to his room anymore during the day. Having sex in a dusty janitor's closet would probably leave her dignity in the same state and it was a shorter walk back to her desk. As much as Clint liked to insist he wanted to keep some semblance of professionalism by separating where he worked and where he had sex, Darcy thought it was a moot point when they were leaving work in the day to have sex in the first place. If Coulson knew about it, he'd probably give Darcy his 'I'm disappointed in you because I know you're better than that' face. It was very similar to the face he gives Fury whenever someone brings up the subject of his blood stained vintage Captain America trading cards, but with more...sadness.

There wasn't any sign of affection with Clint anymore and that was upsetting. Slowly, it had become clear to Darcy that Clint only used her as a warm, willing body now. No personality or even talking necessary. The realisation had been a rude awakening. She started to resent the situation she had loved only a short time ago.

It hadn't always been like this. Their sporadic booty calls were so much fun in the beginning. Each touch had been full of snarky demands, teasing and all around playfulness as they explored each other's bodies the first times. Their arrangement seemed perfect. Both were commitment-phobes and snark bros, so they got along well. The great sex was an added bonus. Before Darcy and Clint hooked up, Darcy's sex life had been rather depressing. Most of her time was taken up with all the SHIELD training she needed to complete before she could be officially titled Coulson's assistant as well as the actual paperwork, even if her clearance was only 'under consideration'. So the nights she had been able to go out and try to find one-night stands were few and far between. Unfortunately, the guys she did go home with weren't all that impressive.

The first hook up between the two friends hadn't occurred in the most dignified of circumstances. One night, they decided to go bar hopping with the intent of being each other's wingman. The night dragged on and they both got drunk. For some reason, Darcy put it to Clint that his bed skills weren't as amazing as he always boasted. Clint took up the challenge he couldn't make her come 3 times in 3 different ways that night and…he did. Rather spectacularly too. Apparently, the world's best archer could find a target even when he was drunk. Darcy may not have had been the world's best anything but she could still give impressive head after 5 beers so a gentleman's agreement was born. Mutual pleasure between two people who liked to have 'that's what she said' conversations. They fist bumped or high-fived after sex and parted ways. No one else knew because they didn't need to know, nor did they suspect anything. It didn't affect how Darcy and Clint treated one another. Bros with benefits, pure and simple.

She could pinpoint exactly when the arrangement changed. On what was supposed to be a routine, weekend conference in Detroit with Coulson ended up with a clusterfuck of gunfire and Clint pushing Darcy to safety while just barely missing a bullet to the head. After life assuring sex that night in the hotel, they'd just held each other, scattering little kisses across faces, shoulders and fingers in an attempt to assure themselves the other was still alive until sleep took them. Things grew more heated between them the more they met. Not just because of the great sex but because they would spend hours talking. Earnestly, without huge amounts of sarcasm. It was strange but the more it happened the more Darcy understood and adored Clint and the more Darcy found she was way out of her comfort zone.

Then one night, it was slow but ardent and absolutely frightening. Darcy was sure she had been simultaneously burning and drowning halfway through. Everything Darcy had ever felt for previous boyfriends or flings suddenly looked silly and juvenile with the hindsight she was gaining in the moment but despite the chest clenching fear at this realisation, she clung onto Clint and enjoyed every touch. When they had finished, all Darcy wanted to do was stare into Clint's eyes because she couldn't remember a time where she felt more safe and cared for in that moment. That was when she realised their no strings attached deal between friends was suddenly a rather convoluted web.

Dread had been saturating Darcy's insides for the past couple months. Something felt so wrong and it left a sour taste in her mouth whenever she thought about how right it had felt for just a moment. Just as she had started to accept what was naturally developing between her and Clint, everything snapped. Any hint of affection had disappeared- playful or caring. It felt impersonal, almost like a SHIELD debriefing except in that instance she could have at least been guaranteed a joke to remind her that life was still okay. While the sex was satisfying on a primal level, there was something off putting when Clint went about getting her off much like he would carry out an infiltration mission at Hydra HQ. The best thing would have been to break off what they were doing and move on. Pretend it never happened.

But Darcy couldn't bring herself to do that and she wasn't entirely sure why.

Clint was looking at her expectantly, threading his belt through the loops of his black combat trousers. Blinking a few times, Darcy realised he had asked her a question about the outing she'd organised for the Avengers and X-Men that night.

"Yeah, I'll be there," Darcy said, picking up her skirt from the floor and trying to rub out some small wrinkles. "I'm one of the only ones who actually knows most of them, you know."

"Well if it goes according to plan tomorrow, I'll be getting to know them better. Any advice on how to handle mutants?" Clint joked. Tomorrow, they were scheduled to go over final agreements before signing a sort of peace treaty between S.H.I.E.L.D. and the X-Men. It would mean that if one group needed help in a mission, the other would be obliged to help if possible. There were a lot of other smaller clauses throughout, obviously and talking about every tiny thing was going to take ages.

This had been in the works for a while but rumours among S.H.I.E.L.D. agents had been whispered for the past few months. Slight hostility was met when it was finally announced of course but it was slowly fading, which was a relief. Plans were moving fast as villains wait for no treaties between the good guys. It was only last month that Darcy and Coulson travelled to the Academy to offer the first vocal olive branch. Even though Clint was waiting for another answer, Darcy thought fondly on the trip.

"Ain't there anyone else you can talk to? Like, someone who cares?"

"Oh you totally care, if you didn't you wouldn't have bothered to come out drinking," Darcy insisted with a sly smile before spinning on the stool with a giggle.

"I wanted a beer and was hopin' to drink it in peace. Y'know, to wind down after being kicked in the balls," Logan said, assuming Darcy would get the hint. Instead, she stared at him with her serious face- at least as serious as she could get while on the way towards drunk.

"I'm sorry I kicked you in the balls, but you snuck up on me so it's really your fault," that earned her a side eyed glare from Logan that clearly showed he did not share the same opinion. "Okay, so I need some advice. It's about a difficult man and I figure you're a difficult man, nice but difficult so-"

"Not a lota people'd use the term 'nice man'," mentioned Logan, actually a little amused. He took a large gulp of his beer.

"Man, titanium steroid cat, whatever," Darcy waved a dismissive hand.

"Titanium steroid cat?" He asked incredulously, almost spitting out his drink but Darcy continued as normal.

"So there's this man-"

"What did I do to deserve this? No, don't answer that."

"And we sort of...made a deal."

"Deal? What kind?" asked Logan after a pause, patience clearly tested but he was resigned to the fact he was going to be playing Agony Aunt for the next few minutes.

"A sex deal," Darcy answered more dramatically than she may have if she weren't tipsy. Still, it garnered a bit of Logan's interest and she thought she saw his eyes flicker down to her breasts.

"If ya need help runnin' away from a pimp-"

"No, no he's not a pimp. He's just my booty call," laughed Darcy, hitting Logan playfully on the shoulder. He didn't flinch from the touch but he didn't enjoy it either. "So, we made a deal that we'd sex each other up whenever we needed but not date each other because we fail at that. 'Cept. I thought I wasn't looking for a relationship and then here I am, in the middle of one. Well, he doesn't think we are. I mean, we aren't but, we sort of totally are because we haven't been seeing other people. I say seeing but I mean fucking. And we've been spending the nights at each other's after sex- and god is the sex fan-fucking-tastic. Pun so intended. Oh, and some of his stuff is at my place. I mean, he has a toothbrush at mine. A toothbrush! If that's not a relationship, I don't know what is. Normally I'm a fuck 'em and leave 'em gal but Clint's so...so..."

"There a point to all of this?"

"Okay," Darcy heaved a sigh before flailing her hands about. "So I really like him and I am sure he likes me but how do I...know?"

"Know?"

"Know that he'd be willing to be my boyfriend!" exclaimed Darcy, frustrated that he couldn't keep up. Logan stared at Darcy, deep in thought at how to answer the question. Or how the hell he got into this predicament. Finally, he leaned towards her, looking like he was about to impart highly classified man secrets. Darcy's eyes grew and she leaned towards him in anticipation.

"Shouldn't make deals ya can't follow through on," Logan stated, enjoying the disappointed pout now on Darcy's lips. Maybe now she'd leave him alone.

"You're a jerk, playing with my emotions. Just like Clint."

"Just find someone else who wants ta be yer boyfriend so ya can leave me and him alone."

"But I want Clint," whined Darcy, causing a growl to leave Logan's throat. "I think he wants me. He looks at me with this look sometimes, like, like he really cares about me and I'm the only one in the world that matters. Then he moves the hair away from my face and kisses me so softly that it makes me melt. It's so romantic but not the shitty cliché kind. It's spontaneous and he doesn't know it's romantic but it is! And he's such a good cuddler. You wouldn't think so with his whole macho man douche canoe aura he tries to put up but he's all gooey mushy sweet on the inside. Like a Peep! I bet you're a Peep under your steroid cat act." She started to experimentally poke at Logan's upper arm, like if she pressed right spot it would reveal his squishy, sugary Peep centre.

"Hey there sweetheart," Rogue thankfully stopped Logan from having to answer. The young woman suddenly appeared on the other side of the inebriated Darcy, causing Logan to utter an audible sigh of relief and not ask why she was in the bar in the first place. "Let's get you a cuppa coffee and you can tell me all about it. Maybe we can figure out what you can say to this fella o'yours?"

Darcy shook her head slightly, trying to escape the memory. Plastering an overly enthusiastic smile and zipping up her skirt, she tried to act like everything was absolutely fine.

"Handle them like you would handle any other agent. I don't see why you guys are so hostile against them. Besides, I thought you'd be excited. Didn't Professor Xavier do some mind thingy to make sure there weren't any traces of Loki left?" Darcy pointed out lightly. Out of all the Avengers, she would have thought Clint would be the most welcoming. It was actually Xavier's offer to sweep Clint's mind and try to start the healing process that had started the ideas for negotiations.

"Yeah well, that's different," Clint shrugged, picking up his shirt and examining it for invisible pieces of lint. When Darcy realised he wasn't going to elaborate on what actually happened when he met with Charles, she sighed and continued.

"They're pretty cool. Hung out with them at a bar when Coulson and I went to start up negotiations. Cosy bars are great places to build bonds and feelings of kinship."

"Or to start fights."

"Whatever," Darcy waved, irritated. "Rogue is one of the nicest people you'll ever meet and Logan and I are pretty tight," Darcy started to blurt, not entirely in control of all the words coming out of her mouth at the moment. Feelings she had pushed away were freely bubbling up to the surface and popped to leave an unsettling acidic burn in her chest. If she didn't rant on then she ran the risk of blurting out how she really felt. Neither she and Clint were ready for that to be in the open.

"Logan, isn't that...Wolverine right? The asshole with the claws. Steve might have mentioned him once. Something about the war..."

"Yep, that's the one. Don't be fooled. He's not as douchey as he wants people to think. I think he's got a soft spot for me though. Actually, sweet young things in general. Ones who don't know the meaning of go away. Or at least the girls in my case because he was so checking them out. Well, everyone does," continued Darcy, deciding what the hell, might as well own the ridiculousness she was spouting to cover up her nerves. Besides, it wasn't a lie per say, she was pretty sure that he disliked her less than other people. He was amused by her if anything, which was a win either way.

Darcy looked up as she waited for Clint's reaction only to find he had froze and was clenching his shirt, twisting it tightly in his hands. Tension threaded through his shoulders but he looked straight ahead so she couldn't make out his facial expression. Still, he looked like a taut bow about to release. The next few words were forced out carefully but she could almost hear his clenched teeth grinding.

"Made an impression did you?"

"Well, I kicked him in the balls the first time we met. He snuck up behind me and was kind of asking for it," she said, confused at Clint's sudden change but as quickly as it came, it was shrugged off.

"Kicked him in the balls?" Clint asked, turning his head slightly. He was some parts impressed, other parts horrified at the idea of anyone getting their balls smashed.

"Yeah, Coulson was pretty proud I used my ninja skills and not my taser. Oh! And I called him a titanium steroid cat. But overall he was nice...ish. Well he didn't glare too much when I said good bye so I think it was all in my favour in a...uh, asserting myself as the alpha dog sort of way."

"Titanium steroid cat huh?" mulled Clint slowly, finally pulling on his shirt and turning around. "Guy needs to be de-clawed."

"Yeah, birds don't really like cats do they?" teased Darcy, earning a chuckle from Clint. There were crinkles around his eyes from his smile. She had the powerful urge to kiss him hard enough he didn't remember the training session he was to lead in about half an hour. She wanted him to forget everything existed but her, to hold her softly and not leave small bruises over her heart and hips for once. To love her. Darcy stood up and sashayed towards Clint with determination in her eyes. As she approached, Clint's head turned, suspicion in the miniscule twist of his neck and quirk of an eyebrow.

"Don't worry I can protect you from that mean ol' putty cat," promised Darcy, voice lowering into a seductive purr. Darcy placed a hot palm on Clint's chest and felt his body stiffen an in attempt to stop himself from moving in closer. Even though he tried to keep an impassive face, a simmering yearning could be seen along the edges. His Adam's apple bobbed from a slow swallow. Licking his lips before continuing in a hoarse voice, the archer gripped Darcy's upper arm to keep her in place.

"Do I look like a little yellow bird to you?" The gruff tone made Darcy's face heat up. It had to be a secret talent he had or something they taught in spy school. There was no logical explanation for why that sentence was turning Darcy on as much as it was. Deciding the question was not as important as satisfying her revived libido, Darcy leaned in for a kiss.

Their kiss was blazing. Everything that had been bubbling up to confuse and hurt Darcy was poured out into this one kiss. The longing, craving, hunger and want for a little more. As of late, she'd tried grasping onto anything to keep her from bashing her head in the fall and hoped that what held her up was even a fragment of love. Just something to cushion the inevitable blow. Anything to shower her with delusion during that grey area between consciousness and dreams. Just some sort of comfort when reality was too harsh. The only thing she had to grasp onto now that Clint closed off his feelings were his kisses and you could bet everything that Darcy held onto what little she was given.

She threw everything into the kiss and Clint caught it all. Their tongues slid together in between possessive nibbles and Darcy felt herself burning from the inside out. She bit his bottom lip and tugged gently, not knowing what to do with the lighter than air haze clouding her head. The only thing she was aware of now was the tight grip Clint had on her arm, anchoring her to the floor.

But suddenly it all cracked, leaving her heart shattered in small, jagged shards.

Clint pulled away roughly, letting go of Darcy's arm. The look on his face was steely and determined. Cold.

"I'm going to be late. Do me a favour. Can you check up on the request forms I filled out last month. Phil hasn't denied or accepted them," Clint asked stiffly, now all business before grabbing his wallet and walking out the door. The blood was draining slowly from Darcy's face. She stood, watching the closed door with some hope that Clint would return and tell her it was all a joke. He didn't come back. Eventually, she put her blouse back on, found her shoes and went back to work. If Coulson noticed a difference in her, he didn't say anything.

Look I'm standing naked before you.
Don't you want more than my sex?
I can scream as loud as your last one
But I can't claim innocence.

I could just pretend that you love me.
The night would lose all sense of fear.
But why do I need you to love me,
When you can't hold what I hold dear?

-Leather, Tori Amos