Corkscrew || OPEN
“I can’t think of a single person who wouldn’t pay to watch that,” Natasha answers, before drawing herself to stand. “Mind if I have another?”
She moves through to the kitchen, sauntering back in with the bottle in hand, topping up Darcy’s glass too before resting it on the table. She smiles at the words, before her expression slides into something resembling admiration. “It’s not often I meet someone with a wider experience than I have,” she answers, taking a sip from her glass. “Just how colourful are we talking?”
“I’ll work on advertising then,” Darcy grinned. “Yeah, help yourself, I mean, you did bring the bottle.”
“Thanks,” she nodded, raising the newly filled glass towards the redhead. “Let’s see, there was the year I was a bartender, the year I worked in a dominatrix’s dungeon, the year I ended up playing storm chaser in New Mexico.” Darcy trailed off. “I’ve got enough stories to fill a book.”
“Perhaps you should work on one, instead of limiting yourself to being Stark’s Girl Friday.” She’d learnt the phrase from the man himself, yet it’s still one she warms to.
The list of jobs is impressive, and she has to resist throwing in her more inexplicable roles. “The dominatrix’s dungeon sounds intriguing - although I suppose you hear that a lot… so I’ll refrain. What kind of storms did you chase in New Mexico then?”
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...