Corkscrew || OPEN
It takes a great deal more self control than Natasha would prefer not to laugh at the same rant she has heard so often from Thor’s own mouth, but she’s not been a field agent for nothing. Her expression remains one of resigned disappointment as she drains her glass. “I live in hope,” she shrugs, before offering a smile.
“And that is outrageous. Perhaps we should all just move to New Mexico and live on Pop-Tarts and cheap tequila.”
Darcy snickered. She patted the cushion between them, “Don’t look so disappointed, I’ve got a friend who swears up, down, and sideways that she’s got proof of the second shooter on the grassy knoll or wherever.”
She leaned forward and set her glass on the coffee table. “The tequila may be cheap but it’ll kick your ass. There were more Coyote Ugly nights than I’d care to admit.”
Natasha laughs, rolling her eyes slightly. “Is it strange to say that’s where I draw the line? Grey men descending from spaceships, yes, but the government assassinating the president seems a little far fetched?”
Raising an eyebrow at the statement, she regards Darcy disbelievingly. “Now that just sounds like a story that has to be seen to be believed - and while you were off not fighting the moonlight, I was stuck blowing up ice sculptures with your boss.”
inheritorofmemories reblogged this from darcywho and added:
It’s quite a unique description of Jane Foster, and Natasha can’t help but laugh. “They are delicious, I’ve got to...
darcywho reblogged this from inheritorofmemories and added:
“It was like feeding a bird, really,” she explains. “Especially since she kinda flitted all over like one.” Darcy shrugs...