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Today was unpleasant and lasted slightly longer than eternity. Let us speak no more of it. Instead, let us fic!
1. Post prompts, one per comment [fandom, character/pairing, prompt]. The more prompts the better.
2. Post fic(let) or link to fic(let) in response to the prompt.
3. Profit!
♥JUST BECAUSE FIC MEME ♥
1. Post prompts, one per comment [fandom, character/pairing, prompt]. The more prompts the better.
2. Post fic(let) or link to fic(let) in response to the prompt.
3. Profit!
no subject
no subject
Oooh, Baby, Baby.
Clint had been in the building opposite for most of the fight, providing cover fire, intel, and very well-timed deadpan comments, so he'd had a front row seat for watching Thor's brother, Thor, and Stark completely wreck the bottom three floors of the Waitwater-Smyth Building. Clint's favorite part had been when Iron Man had decided that after the two Norse gods destroyed the majority of the supporting walls, that was the best time to set off, in short order, a localized flash bomb, the building's fire-suppression system, and every car alarm within a two block area.
After Loki decided he'd had enough quality time with his brother, and the call had gone out to secure the area before the entire Waitwater-Smyth building collapsed, Clint rappelled off the rooftop opposite, his feet touching pavement just as Darcy Lewis exited the trashed building.
Her hair was wet, plastered to her neck and shoulders, she had a nasty scrape on her cheek, and she was staring down at her iPod with a bored expression.
"You okay?" he asked, because after a fight, you checked that your teammates were in working order, even if they just worked support, and especially if they had a fantastic rack.
"Fucker fried my iPod," she responded, mouth pursing into an irritated bow.
Clint took a beat, let that response sink in.
"You want to get a drink this evening?" he said.
Darcy looked up, startled, and then let her gaze flick slowly from his face to his feet and back (there may have been some lingering on his biceps. Clint may or may not have discreetly flexed).
"Yeah, that would be, um, yes," she said, pushing her glasses further up her nose.
"It's a date," he said, and went to go watch as Thor and Tony argued about who let Loki to what to whom.
In the one unbroken, ground floor window of the Waitwater-Smyth Building, he watched Darcy dig out her cell phone, take a quick photo of his back, and then clearly text it to somewhere.
He grinned.
Re: Oooh, Baby, Baby.
Re: Oooh, Baby, Baby.