Chapter Text
Darcy didn't like London. Sure, without the crazy aliens it was a nice place. She was fond of cities. She liked NYC, but everything bad always happened in London. Aether, Dark Elves, that time the silver surfer came. Some weird shit. And now, on a completely ordinary alien-free day, as she wandered down a busy street, she bumped into a stranger.
Now, usually when you bump into a stranger, they're polite and then hurry off on their way. Darcy could tell by the expensive suit, angry (how could such a handsome face hold such anger? Jesus) expression and the fact that he was threatening the person on the other end of the phone that this would not be one of those encounters.
"Sebby hold on," was what he said in a slightly crazed tone with a dramatic sigh before he turned to her with a straight face and looked her up and down. "You Americans, ALWAYS being so rude and running into pedestrians, how about next time you want to not pay attention, YOU AREN'T ON A BUSY STREET. God, I don't need this in my life. I knew I was better off staying at home but no, Sebastian couldn't pick up Johnny boy on his own."
"Or, maybe you could try not being an asshole and take it easy sometimes. Get a grip," Darcy cocked her hips and raised an eyebrow at the obvious nutjob in front of her.
"Of course. Why must fate test me so?"
With that her soulmate/the stranger in the street walked away from her, leaving her to ponder the weirdo until later that night.
Darcy woke up blindfolded and tied up to a chair. When she awoke she tried to keep her breathing steady to pretend she was still unconscious. She could detect four voices, and she smelled chlorine. The voices were far off, so she figured there was probably a door between her and the others. Her captor was obviously an idiot because she had no gag.
"HEY, FUCKER! YOU'RE JUST GONNA LEAVE A GIRL WAITING?" she yelled as loud as she could and footsteps came towards her. Probably not her smartest idea, but she was right, there was a door. Then her blindfold was off. There was a man, tall and pale.
"Who's this?" he pondered, and walked away from her. Darcy rolled her eyes. Seriously?
Then she spotted him.
"I'm that asshole's soulmate. Did you seriously kidnap me?" Through a series of unfortunate events, the blonde was unstrapped from his bomb vest, her crazy soulmate left with a "Come along, Sebby" and the tall one untied her.
"I'm done with England." She grumbled.
"Not a good trip then?" The blonde- John- asked.
"Not at all. I had to deal with the freaking aliens and now a psychopath soulmate. This shit only happens to me, I swear."
"Best of luck then, if you have any more trouble with him, call us. We live in 221B Baker street."
Darcy nodded and found her way back to her astrophysicist.
Being back at the tower was a relief. Darcy was through with the bullshit and needed some coffee.
The scent of her hazelnut blend wafted to her through the hall and she followed it to the kitchen where her bestest friend in the whole universe was smiling and holding a cup-o-joe for her.
"You are my savior." She sighed and inhaled, sipping at the masterpiece he had brewed. She jokingly said: "Clint, your coffee making skills are just godly. We should take this friendship to the next level." Of course, her mental filter didn't work. She'd been in love with her best friend since he'd Harry Potter marathon-ed with her when Jane had left for two months without notice, leaving Darcy alone and worried. But, she was positive he didn't feel the same.
Or maybe not.
He came closer to her and tugged her flush to him by her waist. Their noses were a hair's breadth apart, their exhales fanned across eachother's chins and mouths. They were so close.
"I agree. We should," and he claimed her mouth in a breathtaking kiss that had her knees jellified in seconds. When they broke apart their cheeks were flushed and their lips were swollen and their eyes were bright.
Maybe Darcy had bad luck in the soulmate department, but fate had someone else special for her right under her nose.