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"Why me?" Natasha asked.
Darcy tried not to hunch her shoulders under the force of the look Natasha was giving her. It was almost as bad as trying to out stare one of Steve's disappointed looks. "Because out of all the women I know, you're the one my family most likely to believe me about. Not that they're actually going to seriously believe me, because, let's face it, you're way out of my league."
Natasha's eyebrows lifted slightly.
Darcy soldiered on, regardless. "I mean, you're hot, and sophisticated, and really not the kind of person I'm likely to just stumble over and invite out for coffee. You know?"
The eyebrows stayed up.
Darcy refused to let herself feel nervous. "But they know Jane, so they know she's so very not gay. Pepper is...just, deeply scary in the wrong way for this. You couldn't pay me enough to ask Ms Hill. She'd kill me with her brain. So, that leaves you."
"Me," Natasha said, flatly.
"Yeah."
"You want me, to pretend to be your girlfriend, for a family dinner." Natasha tilted her head. "Why?"
"Good question," Darcy muttered under her breath. She coughed. The slight twitch at the corner of Natasha's mouth meant she'd probably heard that. "Okay, it's kind of like...uh...my parents are in town. Dad's got some kind of conference thing and they decided to visit because who doesn't want to visit New York when they've got the chance? Even if New York has way too many marauding aliens and too much weirdness. It's still got the Statue of Liberty and the Empire State Building and all that kind of crap. And my sister just got engaged, and my brother got married last year, and if I have dinner with them, Mom will be all worried about how alone I am and she'll go on and on and on and...so, I kind of made up a girlfriend."
"You made up a girlfriend."
"Yeah. I figured it would shut them up. They're very conservative."
Natasha's mouth twitched again. "It didn't work?"
"They want to meet her." Darcy slumped back in her chair. "So I need a girlfriend for the night. Maybe an afternoon, too. Mom said something about going to the theatre. And, like, more food after. But you could get called to some kind of emergency thing just after, and skip the meal, if you want. Mom already bought the tickets, or I wouldn't ask."
"You need a girlfriend to have dinner with your family and go to a show," Natasha said.
"Yeah. That's pretty much it."
"Did you say what your girlfriend does?"
"Nope," Darcy said. "I was trying to keep it really vague. I guess that's why they're inviting you. Her. My fake girlfriend."
"Did they know there was the possibility that you'd have a girlfriend before you made one up?"
Darcy shrugged a shoulder. She was starting to regret cornering Natasha in the Tower's communal living room. This might have been easier if she'd invited Natasha out for coffee somewhere.
No, wait, it wouldn't. It would have been so much worse.
"They maybe, kind of, thought I was going through a phase in college?" Darcy said. "It's not like I've actually brought anyone home. Ever. Boy or girl. I went to senior prom with a guy. But it's been kind of weird the last few years, with all the aliens and shit, so I've never really sat down and discussed my ranking on the Kinsey scale with them, or anything."
Natasha's lips twitched again. It was getting disturbing the way she kept doing that. "Okay."
Darcy narrowed her eyes. "Is that 'okay, I get that you're weird and really need to have an honest talk with your parents', or 'okay, I'll...' uh..."
Natasha shrugged. "I'll do it."
"Awesome!" Darcy fought down the urge to do a fistpump. "That's great. That's really...unexpected. Wait. Why are you doing it?"
"I'm saving you from having to ask Pepper to do it," Natasha said dryly. "It would be painful for all of us."
"Okay," Darcy said cautiously.
"I didn't have plans on Friday, anyway," Natasha continued.
Darcy watched her carefully. It was impossible to read Natasha; she was too good at putting on a blank mask. The corner of her mouth lifted slightly, though, and Darcy grinned with relief.
"Thank you," she said, fervently. "I mean it. Thank you. This is going to keep them quiet about my love life for years. If there's anything you need, ever, just ask."
"I'll keep that in mind," Natasha said. The corner of her mouth rose a little higher. If it kept going, it might turn into a smile one day. "Have you thought about our story?"
"Our story?" Darcy asked.
The other corner of Natasha's mouth twitched. "Story. How we met, that kind of thing."
"Oh, crap," Darcy moaned.
***
Darcy glared at her reflection in the bathroom mirror. Her reflection glared back unhelpfully. She wrinkled her nose, deciding quickly that it wasn't a good look for her.
Samantha Stephens she was not.
"I hate this date," she muttered.
If only the problem had been something simple, like Natasha being awful at pretending to be her date or her parents hating Natasha. Or even something stupid, like spilling something down the front of her dress, which would have been painful--damn, this dress was good--but at least it would have given her a good reason to feel irritable.
But no, dinner was going well. Really well. Perfectly.
Darcy swore under her breath again.
Natasha was the perfect fake girlfriend. She was charming, funny, attentive. She'd figured out that Darcy's mom automatically hated any potential partners for her children who didn't have backbone, so she'd stuck to her own opinions when the conversation turned political, despite the way Darcy's dad frowned at her.
She'd even brought some seriously amazing banter and flirting skills to the event, which Darcy couldn't have resisted if she tried.
In short, Natasha couldn't have played the part better.
Darcy was so totally screwed.
All the little touches, the flirty smiles, the jokes...they were messing with Darcy's heart. It wasn't that she'd never thought about Natasha that way--Darcy thought she'd have to be made of stone not to have--but the thoughts had never been serious.
Not itching-to-kiss-her-and-find-out-what-her-lips-tasted-like levels of serious.
Nope, Darcy had been very firm about not having crushes on any of the Avengers. They were superheroes. They did crazy shit that put them in danger regularly. It was bad enough watching Jane turn into a wreck whenever Thor got knocked through a building. Darcy didn't need to join her.
And anyway, Natasha was out of her league. She hadn't been joking about that.
Except, it was difficult to believe that when Natasha held her hand under the table, and lifted her eyebrows with a wicked smile as she offered to share the most indulgent chocolate dessert on the menu.
Darcy brushed her hair out of her eyes and glared at her reflection again. There was still too much pink in her cheeks.
The dessert thing had been too much for her self-control.
The bathroom door opening startled Darcy out of her introspection. She whirled around, completely unsurprised to find Natasha entering with a curious smile.
Yeah, that was exactly what she needed.
"Is something wrong?" Natasha asked.
Darcy started to shake her head. Stopped. Straightened her shoulders. Frowned when she caught Natasha's gaze dropping for a fraction of a second before returning to her face, that oddly impersonal smile still firmly in place.
Huh.
"You're too good at this," Darcy said, before snapping her mouth shut. Damn. That wasn't what she'd meant to say.
Natasha lifted an eyebrow. "I'm too good?"
Darcy sighed and slumped back against the sink. "You weren't supposed to be this...convincing. You've got Mom and Dad eating out of your hand."
"I thought that was the idea."
"You're so good at this, you've got me halfway convinced that we're having some kind of thing together." Darcy waved a hand. "I was there when we were planning this! You're not supposed to be convincing me that we're a thing! We're not a thing. That's the whole point. We're being a thing for my parents, but we both know that we're not and that's...that's...that's the point. That we're not. Thinging."
Natasha crossed her arms over her chest. Darcy resolutely did not look down, even though she'd already noted that Natasha's dress was...flattering...to her figure.
Looking was a bad, bad idea when she was currently supposed to be irritated that Natasha was too good at being her fake girlfriend.
That thought probably had a logic fail in it somewhere, but Darcy didn't want to dig for it.
Natasha raised both eyebrows. "You're angry with me because I'm too good at being your girlfriend."
"Yes. No. Kind of."
"I'm confused."
"So am I." Darcy sighed. "You're a really confusing person."
The bathroom door started to open, and Natasha pushed it closed firmly. There was a muffled squawk from the other side and the door rattled for a moment, but Natasha was stronger than she looked. The rattling stopped, and a muffled voice said something that was probably rude.
Nobody tried the door again. Darcy figured they had maybe five minutes before someone a lot more determined than a soccer mom tried to get in.
"You should go," Darcy said. "I'll be out in a minute." When Natasha didn't move, Darcy made a shooing gesture. "Go, be charming to my parents. I'll be fine."
There was a moment when Darcy though Natasha would do what she'd asked. Might leave, giving her a break to catch her breath and run through a pep talk about spies and their habits.
Except Natasha didn't do that. She half-turned to the door, but then she seemed to change her mind and she stepped closer to Darcy instead.
Closer was not helpful.
Darcy shooed again. "Go away, you're not helping the confusion thing."
"I like you," Natasha said.
"Huh?"
Natasha shrugged. "You asked me why I agreed to this. I like you."
"That's what I thought you said, and it's still not making any sense."
"I'm going to kill Clint."
"Now you're making even less sense."
"He told me to use my words," Natasha said, and the way she deepened her voice implied that she was reciting Clint's exact words. "When Clint Barton has to tell someone to use their words, I usually assume that person has made some deeply foolish decisions."
Which was true. Clint wasn't exactly the living embodiment of a guy who regularly used words when easily misconstrued actions might save him from them.
A tiny flutter started in the pit of Darcy's stomach. She refused to let herself smile, though. Not yet. "So, your words are, 'I like you'. Is that like as in 'your hats are great and you make a good cup of coffee', or like as in 'your boobs are awesome and I'd like to kiss you'."
Natasha rolled her eyes, but she took a step closer, which made Darcy think that it was option two. Maybe.
Darcy grinned. "Then it's a good thing that I also think my boobs are awesome and I'd like to kiss you. Wait, no, I think it was supposed to be your boobs? Huh. We both have awesome boobs and we should kiss."
"In a restaurant bathroom?" Natasha said, dubiously. "Is that really where you want a first kiss?"
"It's a bathroom with little towels and gold faucets," Darcy said. "It's actually nicer than my apartment."
"You spend most of your time in the Tower. I'm amazed you can remember what your apartment looks like."
Darcy shrugged. "It's easier to wrangle Jane if I'm on site, you know? And it's not like Tony's got a shortage of guest rooms or anything. Which is completely not the point, because we were discussing where we should kiss, and my living arrangements aren't really that important to the whole kissing thing."
"You mentioned your apartment," Natasha pointed out.
"Which is still crappier than this bathroom," Darcy said. "So, all in all, kissing me here isn't going to spoil our first kiss, or whatever you're worried about. And anyway, my parents probably think we've been making out in here this whole time."
"I have no idea how that's relevant."
"It probably isn't. It's just another point in favour of the kissing right here argument."
Natasha looked like she was going to keep arguing, so Darcy decided to take matters into her own hand. She had always figured that it was impossible to know whether chemistry was real until the first kiss happened--there had been an unfortunate incident with a guy in high school, it was still embarrassing to remember--and waiting seemed like a deeply foolish idea right now.
So she leaned forward, planted a hand on Natasha's shoulder, and kissed her.
Chemistry was definitely not lying.
Darcy was vaguely aware of the door opening, someone gasping, and the door closing again, but it seemed completely unimportant. What was more important was the way Natasha was kissing her back, warm and fierce and very, very good. Fantastic, even.
It was disappointing when Natasha pulled back. Darcy mostly resisted the urge to pout, but she couldn't help feeling a little smug that Natasha seemed to take a minute to catch her breath. That deserved some pride, she felt.
There was a discreet knock on the bathroom door, which must have been what Natasha had heard.
"Ready to go out there?" Natasha asked.
Darcy grinned. "Ready to be my fake girlfriend again?"
Wicked amusement lit up Natasha's face. "It's all good practice."
Darcy's breath caught in her throat. "Oh."
The women waiting outside the door didn't meet their eyes as they left, but Darcy didn't even notice. She was still riding the warm glow of having Natasha's hand in hers, and the ghost imprint of Natasha's parting kiss on her lips.
When Darcy's mom pulled her aside as they left the restaurant, to compliment her on her "lovely partner, if that's the right word now?". Darcy's smile threatened to make her face cramp. It was a good feeling.
Spending the night in the Tower wasn't new, but spending the night in a room that wasn't a guest room definitely was. Darcy could barely keep her eyes open during the play the next afternoon.
As she dozed against Natasha's shoulder, she didn't regret a thing.