Alarms screeched through the halls, the high pitch noise making Darcy want to crawl into a ball and hide. Which is exactly what she was heading to do, par her fathers' orders. She'd visited them dozens of times at work and never had to execute the emergency policies her fathers had informed her of. So of course, the day she's here because Pepper had a final and couldn't stay with her while she's sick and both fathers had to come in, is the day S.H.I.E.L.D. gets attacked.

Perfect, thought Darcy angrily. Of course this happens when I'm sick. Alright, Daddy said to go to the records room. The fighting is on the other half of the building, so it should be safe there. No one will be in there.

Running through the halls, she tried to block out the sound of gunfire. It's little more than a distant echo, but both her fathers are spies along with two members of her honorary extended family. She knows the damage a gun can do. She's nine, not stupid.

The door her father directed her to came into view moments later, to her relief. Quickly, she punched the code for the room into the keypad and bolted inside the dim room. The door clicked shut behind her, dulling the noise of fighting to little more than an hum. Thank god. I don't need to think about Daddy and Dad in a gunfight right now. I'm safe, Daddy knows where I am, I need to sit tight until Aunt Natasha comes to get me.

Dismissing thoughts of the fight outside, she focused on catching her breath. Without much thought, her hand went to the pocket of her pants where her inhaler was stashed and drew the piece of plastic from her pocket. Damn asthma. Closing her eyes, she took two hits and leaned against the door. The medication took effect almost immediately, easing her breath. Now I just need to calm my nerves.

The sound of something crashing to the ground further in the room caused her to jump and spin towards the noise, nearly loosing her glasses in the process. What was that? No one is supposed to be in here. All agents should be handling the attack. No one should be here. But the sounds of footsteps and slamming metal as someone started going through the filing cabinets in the room told her otherwise. Someone's in here with me. I need to tell Daddy. The attack isn't the point of this, it's a distraction.

Straightening her glasses, she quietly moved to the phone in the room and grabbed the headset. She'd memorized Phil's office number long ago, allowing her to dial it from memory and focus on keeping her breathing as calm as possible. The records room was huge, with more filing cabinets and file boxes than most libraries. If she was lucky, whoever else was inside hadn't heard her come in and didn't hear her now.

The phone went straight to voice mail though, as she'd suspected it might. Using a curse she'd heard Natasha use once before, she reached for the taser her father had handed her and checked the cartridge. He'd said Natasha was heading for the record room to keep her safe, but who knew when her aunt would get there. Based on the noise outside the room, she was guessing it would take a while and whoever was in here would probably have what they had come for before anyone else arrived. Okay, I can do this. It's just one person, all I need to do is tase them and wait for Aunt Nat to get here.

Gulping, she slipped off her shoes to soften her steps (she wasn't good at walking quietly with shoes on yet), gripped the taser tighter, and started creeping towards the back of the room where the noise had come from. If she was lucky, it was just Clint falling out of the vent work. Unfortunately, unless he was hurt, he would have identified himself by now. Which meant the person in the room with her probably wasn't supposed to be there.

Mentally, she ran through everything her father had told her about using the taser in her hands and self-defense. Avoid a fight at all costs, if that isn't an option act only in self-defense. But whoever's in here is clearly flipping through the files, which means they're looking for something. And I can't just sit back and let someone take harmful information from the files. I've gotta do something.

The sound of someone shuffling through files was louder now, more distinct, and she knew the other person in the room was near by. Forcing her breathing to remain even just like Natasha had taught her, Darcy crept to the end of the first row and peeked around the corner. Nothing but rows upon rows of filing cabinets inhabited the space. Hurrying by the opening into the aisle, she pressed her body against the next row of filing cabinets and took a deep breath. You can do this, Darcy. Your father's are super-spies and your extended family is the same. There's a lot of dangerous information in here and it needs to be protected. So, do what Daddy would, protect it.

Fortifying her resolve, she glanced down this aisle as well. It was as empty as its neighbor, but the noise of shifting paper was louder here. It sounds like they're in the next row. Alright, if I can just sneak up and tase him, then I can wait for Natasha to arrive. Then she can do whatever needs to be done.

Hurrying again past the empty aisle, Darcy resumed her position pressed against the filing cabinets. She could feel the vibrations of the doors of the filing cabinets opening and closing as whoever was down the aisle flipped through the files. Her hands shook a little as she raised the taser up and peered around the corner.

A man in a black jump-suit and goggled-helmet was busily digging through the files. Between the goggles and helmet, Darcy couldn't see his face but she recognized the logo on his arm band immediately. Her fathers had decided she needed to know all the logos for the main villainous organizations. This included groups that were only questionably in operation, such as Hydra.

Fear shot down Darcy's spine and she quickly disappeared back behind the filing cabinets. She didn't know much about Hydra outside of what was in the file she'd found in Fury's office one day while practicing the sneaking techniques Clint had showed her (learning the air vent system through a combination of blueprint memorization and actual exploration had been her Dad's best idea ever). They weren't even supposed to be active; apparently, that information had been very wrong though.

Why isn't Aunt Nat here yet? She should have gotten here by now. Of course, Darcy knew Natasha could have gotten stuck anywhere in the fight outside. There was so much chaos, it was impossible to say where anyone was at the moment. And apparently, it was all so some Hydra goon could go snooping through the archive files. I need to alert Daddy. And Dad. They'll know what to do. But first, I need to stop this guy before he takes anything.

Taking a deep breath once more, Darcy tried to picture the aisle as it had been when she'd glanced down it. Okay, I remember the man wasn't that far away from me, maybe 30 ft. But the taser only has a range of 15 ft., which means I either needed to get closer to him or wait for him to get closer to me. But there was no cover. No cover means I wait. And from the sounds of it, it didn't sound like she'd be waiting long.

Silently, she listened as five more draws slid open and slammed shut over the next few minutes. The goon was muttering some pretty bad German curses (she'd learned those from Clint, who thought cursing in another language would somehow stop her from learning the words), but nothing else he said was understandable. Note to self, learn German.

When one of the drawers slammed close enough that she heard the lock jostle, Darcy thought the man might be in range. Taking a deep breath, she made sure her finger wasn't on the taser trigger so she couldn't accidentally shoot it off early and spun into the aisle. The man was facing away from Darcy when she stepped into view, giving her a perfect shot.

The goon fell to the floor with a jolt, shouting as the current from the taser flooded his body. Darcy held the trigger down until the man stopped moving, only then letting go. She toyed with the idea of checking for a pulse, then disregarded it immediately. I don't want to know if I just killed someone. A taser shouldn't kill except under certain circumstances, but it is Daddy's taser, so who knows what the R&D department might have done to it.

Staring at the body of the first person she'd ever dropped, Darcy missed Natasha entering the room until the Russian spy called out for her. "Darcy? Where are you?"

Taking a deep breath, Darcy turned towards the general direction of Natasha's voice. "I'm down he-"

A hand clamped suddenly over Darcy's mouth as an arm locked around her body from behind. Together, they pinned her against something that felt like a human wall. But the arm currently pinning her to her captor wasn't clad in the black fabric of the Hydra uniform: this one was the black fabric of S.H.I.E.L.D.'s suits. It was a S.H.I.E.L.D. agent who was restraining her and she didn't think it was anyone she knew.

"You're coming with me, brat," growled the man currently restraining her as he tried to drag her further into the room and away from the door. "I'm sure your father will do anything to get you back. Even let me go."

And he would. She knew he would. There was no way she could let either of her fathers' face that. Her eyes darted around, looking for any way out of the situation or any signs of Natasha. There has to be a way out. Dad and Daddy are always saying there's a way to do anything if you set your mind to it, so what can I do to get away?

A glint caught Darcy's attention, drawing her eyes to the entrance of the aisle where she'd been moments before. It was the glint of a gun and with it, she could just see a bit of red hair...Without much though, Darcy shifted her weight and kicked the man hard in the shin. She heard him curse, his grip loosening just a touch, which was enough for her to jam her elbow into the man's stomach. Like she predicted, it didn't do much, but the blow surprised him enough that his grip slackened further. Enough that she was able to get away. Which, in this case just meant dropping to the floor.

The echo of a single gun shot cut through the room as she hit the ground, followed by a pained shout from the man who had been trying to drag her away and a loud crash as he hit the ground. She scrambled as far as she could from her kidnapper, bolting straight for where Natasha without looking back. Reaching the red-headed assassin, she finally turned to look at the man who'd tried to take her.

He was a mid-level agent, that much she knew for sure. Vaguely, she recalled seeing him here or there on occasion, but he wasn't particularly memorable. And that was probably why he was spying for Hydra. At least, that was her guess.

"Darcy, are you alright?" asked Natasha worriedly, gun still trained on the man slowly bleeding out on the floor.

"Yeah," breathed Darcy. "Fine. There's another guy on the ground."

"So I noticed,"replied Natasha. "Taser?"

"Yep," confirmed Darcy.

Natasha smiled and raised a second gun to train on the tased man. "Good girl. Now, can you take my radio and contact your fathers, please? They're very worried."

"Yeah," agreed Darcy, unhooking the radio from Natasha's hip. "I can do that. Is it set for the right frequency?"

"Already set," confirmed Natasha.

Nodding, Darcy lifted the radio to her mouth and pressed the big red button on the side. "Coulson, Barton, can you hear me?"

"Darcy?" asked Phil, voice terrified as it came over the radio.

"It's me," confirmed Darcy. "Er, over."

"Thank god," muttered Clint. His voice was just as fearful as Phil's had been. "Are you alright?"

"Yeah, I'm fine," assured Darcy, even as her eyes fell to the man who'd tried to kidnap her. "Romanov is with me."

"Good, we'll be there soon," informed Clint. "Coulson should arrive in the next few minutes. I'll be a bit longer."

Darcy felt her lips tilt up in a smile. "Did you get stuck in the air vents again?"

For a moment, there was silence on the radio before Clint's voice floated back guiltily. "...maybe..."

"Darcy, could you hold the talk button down, please?" requested Natasha with a sigh. Darcy nodded and did as she was told, holding the radio up so Natasha could speak into it without releasing either of her guns. "Barton, you are a -" Darcy didn't understand what her aunt said next, but it sounded very Russian and was probably insulting.

"Thanks, 'Tasha," groaned Clint. "That's just what I wanted to hear today."

"It's true," pointed out Natasha.

Darcy lost interest in the conversation at that point. When Clint and Natasha started arguing and the Russian started flying, she stopped caring. It wasn't like Phil let her use the bad language anyway. Even when she did know what she was saying.

The sound of the record room door flying open caught Darcy's attention. Peering quickly around the edge of the file cabinets, she watched as Phil stumbled frantically into the room. He looked ready to commit murder if necessary.

Someone pulled on the radio, drawing Darcy's attention back to the situation at hand. Natasha offered her an understanding smile. "Go see your father, Darcy. I can handle this."

Darcy nodded, releasing the radio to Natasha and bolting around the filing cabinets to where Phil was standing by the door. His eyes frantically scanned the area, halting when they landed on Darcy as she darted towards him. He didn't pause as he holstered his weapon and dropped to his knees.

"Darcy," he muttered as she reached him, drawing her into a tight hug. "Are you alright?"

"I'm fine, Daddy," assured Darcy, hugging her father in return. She was still shaking, which is probably why Phil gripped her even tighter.

"Agent Romanov?" called Phil, hoisting Darcy into his arms despite the fact she was almost too big for him to carry her. Carefully, he started towards the aisle Darcy had darted out of.

"Down here," replied Natasha. "Will Barton be here soon?"

Phil's brow furrowed and he started to hurry towards where Natasha's voice was coming from. "Is there a problem, Agent Romanov?"

Natasha shrugged as Phil stepped into the aisle, both guns still leveled at the men on the floor. "It would just be nice to have someone cuff these two so I can put my arms down."

Darcy glanced between the men before squirming out of her father's arms and grabbing his cuffs from inside his jacket. "Which one should I cuff first?"

"Darcy, you aren't cuffing anyone," objected Phil just as Natasha said: "Start with the one you tased."

Nodding, she moved towards the man laying unconscious on the ground and quickly grabbed his wrists. Recalling Clint's instructions, she carefully crossed the wrists and snapped the cuffs on, making sure there isn't enough room for the man to get free when he awakens. Turing to the Natasha, she cocked her head slightly at her aunt. "Like this?"

"Perfect," approved Natasha with a nod. "Clint taught you well."

One of Phil's eyebrows rose, even as he scowled slightly and took Natasha's cuffs from her. "And why was Clint teaching her to use handcuffs?" Reaching the injured man, he harshly jerked the man's hands behind his back and cuffed him. "Also, did you say Darcy tased the other man?"

Natasha shrugged. "That's my guess. He was on the ground already when I arrived."

Phil froze, still kneeling beside the man he'd just cuffed. "She was in here, alone, with a Hydra agent?" His head turned immediately towards Darcy again. "Is that true?"

Darcy nodded, wincing slightly at the look on Phil's face. He looked too calm, which was bad when he should have been angry. "I heard him shuffling through the files."

"So you tased him?" asked Phil, voice tight. At Darcy's nod, he sighed. "Well I can't say I'm angry that you did because you probably saved some important information from falling into enemy hands, never do that again. Ever. If you think there's trouble anywhere near where you're hiding, contact us and move hiding places. Don't confront anyone ever again, understand?"

"Yes, Daddy," assured Darcy, recognizing what he was saying for what it was: 'I'm proud of you but don't ever do it again because you could get hurt and then I'd have to start murdering people'. "I won't."

Phil nodded, moving back over to where Darcy was standing beside the unconscious man. "You aren't hurt, right?"

"No," replied Darcy. "But Daddy, can we go home now?"

"Of course, Darcy," assured Phil, hugging her. "It's been a busy day."

Natasha nodded, offering Darcy a touch of a smile. "You were very brave today, Darcy. And you did very well, both in stopping Hydra from stealing secrets and in handling yourself against the man who tried to kidnap yo-"

"The man who tried to what?" hissed Phil, spinning to face Natasha. His face was a strange combination of fear, rage, and fatherly protective/murderous intent. "Someone tried to kidnap Darcy?"

"The man you cuffed," informed Natasha, stepping between Phil and the man in question. "You can't kill him, Coulson. Fury would have your head, much as he'll have that man's for his actions today. Let us try to get information from him first, though."

"Son of a," growled Phil, shoving a hand through his hair. For a moment, he just glared at the injured man on the floor before taking a deep breath and forcing his body to relax. "Not telling me until after he was cuffed as a good call, Agent Romanov." Turning back to Darcy, he gently took her hand. "Now, I'm going to take my daughter home. Can you handle things from here?"

"They're cuffed, this is the easy part," stated Natasha with a shrug. "I'll let Agent Barton know what happened."

"Please do," sighed Phil, shaking his head slowly. "And leave out the kidnapping bit until after the man responsible is secured. It wouldn't do for Agent Barton to dismember him before we had a chance to ask a few questions."

"Don't worry," assured Natasha with a grin. "I'm sure, given the circumstances, Director Fury will be more than happy to let both of you handle the interrogation."

Phil offered Natasha a dangerous smirk. "I certainly hope so, Agent Romanov. I'm sure we could be very convincing."

The look on her father's face made Darcy shiver a little. If anyone ever said her father couldn't be cruel, she'd have to kick them. "Daddy?'

"Sorry sweetheart," apologized Phil, offering Darcy a soft smile. "We can go now."

"Thank you, Daddy," murmured Darcy, yawning a bit. Whatever high she'd been running on earlier was fading and with it, so were her energy reserves. Without a word, Phil picked her back up and started towards the door.

Snuggling into her father's shoulders, Darcy let her eyes close a little as she spoke. "Daddy, can we invite Pepper over and watch a movie tonight?"

"We'll see how you're feeling, Darcy," replied Phil. "You're still sick, after all."

"Okay," whispered Darcy, her eyes drooping further. The last thing she remembered before falling asleep was the press of her father's lips to her temple and his whispered 'Go to sleep, sweetheart. I love you'.

Clint nearly groaned in relief as he reached the door to the apartment he shared with Phil. It had taken close to five hours to clean up the mess following the attack on S.H.I.E.L.D and ensure everything was secured. He'd been worried when he hadn't seen Phil, but Natasha had explained that Darcy wasn't feeling well (which had been the case for a few days now), so Phil had been excused to take her home. Nat had also explained (once the man who'd been responsible was secure) that Darcy had nearly been kidnapped. Whoever told her to wait to inform him of that little bit of information (probably Phil) had been right to do so. He'd seen red when she told him.

Letting out a breath, Clint unlocked the door to the apartment and crept inside. The living room was dark and silent, no sign of anyone being in the apartment at all. But Clint had expected that. He had a pretty good idea of where his daughter and husband were.

Turning down the hallway that led to the bedrooms, he headed straight for the room he shared with Phil and pushed the door open. Phil was lying on their bed, Darcy wrapped in his arms. The normally put together S.H.I.E.L.D. agent hadn't even changed out of his work clothes, leaving the suit wrinkled. Not that Clint could blame the man. He couldn't imagine walking into the records room and finding out that, not only had his daughter tased a Hydra agent trying to steel classified information, but that she'd also nearly been kidnapped.

Phil lifted his head as the door opened, blinking blearily at Clint. Apparently, he'd fallen asleep when he got home. Again, Clint couldn't blame him. "How bad is the damage?"

Clint shrugged, sliding off his jacket and beginning to strip as he moved around the room. "Pretty bad. Fury's damn proud of Darcy though; said she might have saved the whole damn agency depending on what the man was looking for."

"Have they interrogated him yet?" asked Phil, arms tightening a little around his daughter but not enough to wake her.

"Not yet," replied Clint, pulling his shirt over his head. "We'll get a crack at him tomorrow."

Phil nodded slowly, shifting to sit up. "What about the man that tried to take Darcy?"

Clint smirked a little. "Fury's leaving him to us."

"Good," growled Phil, scrubbing a hand over his face. "Does he care if we murder the man?"

"Once he's given up his secrets? Not even a little." Clint finished stripping down to his boxers, fishing a shirt out of the dresser and moving to sit beside Darcy on the bed. "How's she doing?"

Phil shrugged, running a hand through his hair. "Fine. She fell asleep on the way home. I was going to tuck her into her own bed but I just..."

"You need her here, where you can see her," surmised Clint. He's pretty much guessed as much. Clint had been there days after Darcy was born. Which meant he'd also see how hard Phil had taken loosing his wife. It wasn't a surprise that he guarded Darcy like she was a precious treasure; loosing his daughter would probably destroy Phil and Clint was under no illusions that he could save his friend if that happened.

Running a hand gently over Darcy's head, Clint took solace in seeing that she was alright. Being told your daughter (and it didn't matter that Phil was her father biologically, Clint had raised her damn it) was alright didn't compare to seeing it personally. Looking up at Phil, he offered the man a smile. "Go clean up. You smell like gun powder and smoke. I'll stay with her."

"I'm not sure I can stand to leave her right now, Clint," whispered Phil, eyes locked on his daughter.

Clint sighed, reaching out to grasp his lover's hand. "Phil, go shower. Clean up. You'll be one room away and I'll be in here with her the whole time. Right now? I'm not any more inclined to leave her alone than you are. At least go rinse off, you have a smug of ash on your face."

Sighing, Phil nodded and hoisted himself out of the bed. "Thank you, Clint."

"Always," assured Clint, watching at Phil disappeared into their bathroom.

Once the door was shut, Clint let out a heavy breath and lay down beside Darcy, closing his eyes. He silently wrapped both arms around his daughter, careful not to wake her in the process, and listened to the water running in the other room. They were safe; his family was safe and sound. They were safe at home and no one had hurt them.

Clint must have fallen asleep though, because the next thing he was aware of was Phil climbing back onto the bed. Blinking, he lifted his head to look at Phil and offered him a smile. "We should probably wake her up soon and get dinner."

"Probably," agreed Phil, laying down on the other side of Darcy in his own tee shirt and boxers (Captain America, of course). "Later though." One of Phil's arms reached over Darcy to take Clint's free hand.

Understanding what Phil was saying, Clint gripped Phil's hand in return and lay back down with his husband, their daughter tucked safely between them. For a little while, Phil just needed to be close to them both; close to his family. And Clint couldn't say he didn't feel the same way. Phil was right, food could wait.