#darcy lewis should show off her bare feet

[femalewarrior222]

Darcy Lewis is the Only One That Should've Been Naked in the Thor Movies

[ynscrazylife]

Supernova | Chap. 2

Series Summary: Y/N is the daughter of Carol Danvers with star-like powers from the Space Stone. She has come to help SWORD with the Westview case, but what happens when she falls for a certain astrophycist?

Chapter Summary: Y/N has just sacrificed herself, being taken into Westview, to save Darcy and other agents. Darcy now races to catch up with Monica and Jimmy, and they all make a plan to save Y/N.

Series Tag List (OPEN): @nyx-aira @kittendanvers​ @scarletwxtxh​ @dani-espin07​ @superbscissorsdeanexpert​ @xxxtwilightaxelxxx​

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This was by far the hardest thing Darcy had ever had to do, and she once tasered a god. Running away from Y/N and knowing she’d probably get pulled into Westview broke her heart, and the fact that it was the only way for her and other SWORD agents to escape crushed it. She grabbed her laptop and then hopped into one of SWORD’s cars, driving away quickly before calling Monica. 

“Darcy!” Monica answered, and Darcy could hear the urgency in her friend’s voice. 

“Y/N is delaying the barrier so more people can escape. I-I doubt she'll make it out . . . Wherever you are, pull over, I’m coming to meet you,” Darcy said, and it took every ounce of will in her not to sob as she said those words. They left a bitter taste in her mouth. The scientist couldn’t bare to hear Monica’s reaction to her childhood best friend, sister-like figure, being in danger, so she hung up.

Sure enough, fifteen minutes later Darcy pulled up behind a pulled over SWORD car and got out of it, leaving the keys inside. She walked up to Monica and Jimmy’s car and glanced over her shoulder. The barrier had stopped, and she had a slimmer of hope that Y/N had escaped. With that, Darcy climbed into the backseat. 

It was eerily silent when she shut the door. Darcy could sense Jimmy’s agitation and could see tear streaks on Monica’s face. The Captain took off driving and Darcy forced herself to focus on Y/N, putting her laptop aside and dialing her phone. 

No one picked up.

Darcy tossed the phone aside in frustration and leaned back into the seat, trying to control her tears before they spilled. “She’s not picking up,” the brunette muttered. Monica gripped the steer wheel tighter and Jimmy rubbed his forehead, but no one said anything else.

They had been driving for awhile now, no one knowing what to do. The aerospace engineer couldn’t meet them because as it turned out, they had been near the Hex and had gotten pulled into Westview. too. As it neared morning and they had all slept and rested, they turned around, parked near the barrier, in a now empty SWORD facility, and got to work. They were the only ones there. Monica and Jimmy worked on a way to enter the Hex without getting their memories erased and Darcy worked on a way to get the television up and running.

Finally, she did it! She watched the show. It was normal. Ish. Wanda was taking a day for herself, Agnes was watching Billy and Tommy and then . . . It switched to Vision. He was visiting the circus and . . . Darcy gasped and nearly cried again, but her tears soon turned to hot, bubbling anger. Vision was being given a tour of the circus and there wasY/N, a trapeze artist, energetic and with no clue what had happened. Darcy turned to Monica and Jimmy, determined.

“Wanda made Y/N a trapeze artist,” she informed them bitterly, and immediately the two stopped what they were doing to look over at it. They both frowned, clearly angry as well. Of course, there was nothing wrong with being a trapeze artist, but the trio was angry at Wanda controlling Y/N. 

Monica forced herself to tear her eyes away from the screen. “Jimmy and I have been looking at what you showed us yesterday - that my cells are being changed. We think that I’ll be able to re-enter Westview, without my memories being erased and I think . . . I think that I can take you guys with me,” she said. 

Darcy immediately nodded. She knew it was dangerous and she knew she had only just met Y/N, but the brunette had already fallen on her. She felt like she needed to go into Westview and save her, after everything Y/N did for her.

It took a half an hour more of planning and ruling out the dangerous possibilities, but Monica and Darcy were finally ready. Their plan was to have Monica find Wanda and talk to her and for Darcy to find Y/N and Vision. Darcy had hacked into technology and was able to make it so they wouldn't just see the WandaVision show, they’d be able to see everything and everyone in Westview, so Jimmy could keep an eye out if anything happened. 

 Monica and Darcy suited up and made their goodbyes to Jimmy, before heading towards the red barrier. Monica took Darcy’s hand and put her other one in the Hex, grasping at its energy and power before they both stepped inside. The sensation . . . it was like nothing either of them had experienced. It was very bright . . . and noisy . . . but it was also beautiful. They kept walking forward until they re-entered Westview, and both women took a couple of moments to take in their surroundings and catch their breath.

“Darcy . . .” Monica trailed off, turning around to face her friend. “Are you still . . . you?” 

Darcy took a moment to compose herself and then nodded with a grin. She still had all of her memories in tact and it seemed that Monica did, too, With that, they went off on different ways - Monica to Wanda’s house and Darcy to the circus.

After what felt like forever, Darcy finally came upon the circus, with its tents and people bustling about. She also noticed Vision, who seemed to be wandering aimlessly. “Hey! Uh, Vision?” Darcy called out, hoping he’d remember her. 

The robot immediately turned around and looked shocked, but relieved, when he saw Darcy, and caught up to her. “You were there . . . The other night,” he recalled.

Darcy nodded hurriedly. “Yes, I’m Darcy Lewis, an astrophysicist. I’m one of the people working to help solve this . . . case,” she explained.

Vision nodded, and he seemed grateful. “We need to get the barrier down,” he said. 

“Yes, I know. My friend . . . you know her as Geraldine, her real name is Monica, she came with me . . . she’s going to talk to Wanda, see if she can convince Wanda to take the barrier down,” Darcy continued.

Vision’s eyes widened. “I should be there,” he said anxiously, making a move to walk forward until Darcy side-stepped in front of him.

“We need to find my, er, friend first. She got pulled into Westview - she’s a trapeze artist here but in the real world, her name is Y/N Danvers,” Darcy told him urgently and a bit nervously.

Vision thought for a moment. “I can take you to her,” he said, and then turned around, leading Darcy further into the circus. 

They found Y/N talking to another circus member, who had been a SWORD agent, and Darcy gasped when she saw her. There she was. The girl she was falling for and fast, just feet away from her, and in pain. Darcy was at a loss for words and Vision recognized this, so he did the talking. He got the other circus member to walk away and then turned to Darcy, quickly telling her to distract Y/N. 

Darcy had no clue what he meant and opened her mouth to speak to her smiling friend when Vision put his hands on Y/N’s head and she gasped before stumbling forward. Darcy caught her before she fell and Y/N gripped Darcy’s arms. “Oh my god, Darcy . . . It hurt, it hurt so bad. I think it was worse because I had powers but her voice . . . I remember everything I did but I couldn’t control it, it was so loud,” she rambled. 

Darcy’s heart broke and she gathered Y/N into her arms, wanting nothing more than to hold her forever, but seeing Vision’s uneasy glance, she knew they couldn’t do that. “I know, I know, I’m so sorry you had to go through that,” Darcy whispered soothingly to Y/N, and then she pulled away and explained the plan to her. Y/N nodded, wiped her tears, and took Darcy’s hand (which surprised her, but the brunette wasn’t complaining).

They walked back into town and saw Monica standing outside Agnes’ house, looking around for something - or someone. “Monica!” Darcy called out, and when Monica saw Y/N, she broke off into a run and secured Y/N in another protective hug. 

After giving the pair a couple moments, Monica explained what happened with Wanda and that Agnes had pulled her away. She, Darcy, and Vision all began planning something else and Y/N tried to listen, but she felt like she was being pulled away. Leaving them to it, she walked over to . . . a shed of some sort. When she pulled it open, she found stairs leading to the basement, with dark vines and branches covered in some sort of purple mist.

That’s when Pietro - or Peter - super-sped up behind her.

[watchtowerindistress]

If the world was ending—Bucky Barnes x Darcy Lewis

Summary: During a power outage, Bucky and Darcy are stuck in the common room of the Avengers compound. Darcy decides they need to play a game to pass the time and get to know each other better. 

Word count: 2.8k

Rating: T

Warnings: fluff

Relationship: Bucky Barnes x Darcy Lewis

Additional tags: pre-relationship, just two people talking to each other, give Bucky Barnes a hug, power outage, not exactly quarantine, the events of Civil War have been altered

Author’s note: I should be working on my sequel for We Are Not Our Masks but I can’t seem to let go of my dear boy Bucky. I know there is a high demand of Quarantine fics, but I think this one-shot is pretty close to it.

MCU Masterlist | Main Masterlist | Ko-fi

Of course, it happened on a Saturday.

Only bad things could happen on a Saturday night.

An almost electrical sound ruptured through the air before the lights on the floor went out. Darcy’s heart was beating vigorously in her chest when she turned around and found the city of New York bathed into darkness.

No longer were the streets lit up by Times Square or street light showing the way.

“What the hell?”

“It’s probably a blackout,” a male voice mumbled quietly in the corner.

“Jesus, Barnes.” Darcy’s hand covered her chest in shock, not expecting or hearing another person to be on this floor at this time. “Warn a girl next time.” She’d detect the owner of that low, guttural voice anywhere.

“Sorry,” Bucky apologized quietly. If she had to guess, she would say that he lowered his head and let his hair fall over his eyes. Besides, Darcy needed to have superhuman vision to distinguish anything in this darkness.

With her gaze sweeping over her surroundings—it sounded like his voice came from the common room—a shadowed figure rocked nervously on the back of his feet.

He was probably just as freaked out about this unexpected situation just as she was.

Darcy waved off his contrition with the movement of her hand and tried to soothe his frayed nerves. “It’s okay.” Her head faced the ceiling. “FRIDAY, you haven’t gone Skynet on us, have you?”

The Welsh voice of the artificial intelligence reached their ears. “Rest assured, Miss Lewis, I’ve been programmed by Mr. Stark not to assert world dominance, so that past mistakes can’t be repeated. I’ve been monitoring a collapse of the city’s power grid system. Under Mr. Stark’s protocol of ‘Home alone’, I have been instructed to lock all inhabitants inside to ensure your safety.”

At that last information, Darcy narrowed her eyes in speculation. “Inside as in inside the building or are we locked on this floor?”

A tense pause hung in the air. “The latter.”

Darcy’s eyebrows arched with a sigh leaving her lips. “That’s just great,” she mumbled under her breath. Darcy’s fingers were itching to do something. Ready to take some action, Darcy laid her hands on her waist. The ethereal light of the moon barely shone through the high-ceiling windows and didn’t exactly offer a lot.

“Please tell me you know if there is candles around here?”

After she had uttered those words, silence weighed heavily between them. Either he had nodded his head or had decided to silently leave the room, without her even knowing about it.

“I can help you find them.”

And just like a promise, Bucky managed to procure a few candles. Not without some difficulties finding them of course. Heaven forbid, that being an easy task.

“You know, for a second, I thought Stark was the kind of guy who only bought LED candles.”

Darcy’s heart practically bloomed with happiness at seeing Bucky’s mouth twitch when he lit those candles and placed them on the coffee table in front of them and on the kitchen counter. In the end, who wouldn’t be filled with gratitude at getting this tight-lipped teddy bear to find some joy in his life?

Okay, she was admitting it, Darcy was doing everything in her power to tickle those muscles around his mouth.

A gut feeling was telling her though that the aggressive approach of literally tickling him was too much to ask for. Darcy counted herself lucky that Bucky didn’t seem to mind the full force of her hugs. At least, he didn’t deny her.

It must have been one of the main reasons why the next words left her mouth. “Do you want to play a game?”

Bucky’s stubbled cheek was illuminated by the almost-divine orange tint. “No, thank you. I know how you operate in Monopoly.”

Darcy rolled her eyes as a not-so distant memory sprang to mind. “Oh, come on, that was one time!” There was a reason why Sam didn’t want to play against her at any social game anymore. He might call it cheating but she liked to think she was just reorganizing the rules a bit.

“But no, how about Twenty Questions?”

Bucky’s stormy-blue eyes looked even more pronounced now as hesitance remained in his shoulders.

Darcy raised an eyebrow, ready to accommodate him. “Fifteen Questions?” Her voice sounded bright at the idea of finally sating her curiosity about him. “Come on, the number doesn’t matter. We can just get to know each other. Who knows how long this blackout is gonna last?”

Bucky’s speculating gaze remained on her eyes while nibbling on his lower lip. Way to make her even more distracted than she already was. Sitting so close to him and feeling his warmth made heat course through her body. “I think we should establish the rules first.”

Teasing laughter left her lips and her brown curls danced on her shoulders. “Okay, fine. We each take turns and ask each other questions. It’s allowed to repeat a question already asked by the other one. But we’re obliged to answer.”

“No cheating though,” Bucky felt necessary to remind her.

Darcy’s eyes widened while laughter shook her upper body. “How could I cheat at Twenty Questions?”

Bucky’s gray-blue eyes stayed uncertain. “Your ability to cheat still astounds me,” he whispered under his breath.

“I’ll take that as a compliment,” Darcy said with pride in her voice as air filled her lungs.

If she hadn’t looked straight into his eyes, she would have missed it but she didn’t imagine it when Bucky’s eyes wandered for a split second to her sweater-covered chest. Any other person and she would have found ways to humiliate that person but this was Bucky.

And she could appreciate that upon their first meeting, Bucky’s eyes remained on her eyes, other than his gaze constantly meeting the floor.

“So, do you want to start?”

Bucky pursed his lips. “Any question?”

“Nothing’s off-limits,” Darcy assured him. “And yes, you still have the full extent of your questions at your disposal.”

Bucky pressed his lips together as concentration lit up his eyes. “What’s the one food you can’t live without?”

Darcy rubbed her hands together in delight. “Oh, I guess, in the face of an impending apocalypse, I would bring lots of S'more pies into the bunker.”

Bucky arched his eyebrows. “Really?”

“It’s my not-so secret endeavor to survive on sweet desserts alone. And what about you? Any special foods of yours worth knowing about?” Darcy tilted her head in curiosity, eager for Bucky’s answer.

His eyes lit up at a certain memory coming to mind. “Probably the Roast Beef Sandwich from Brooklyn. It just melts in your mouth.”

An almost indecent groan left her mouth. “Maybe we shouldn’t have played this game. You’ve found my weakness and now I’m hungry.”

Bucky snorted, letting the corners of his mouth dance. “What’s your favorite movie?”

Without missing a beat, Darcy answered, “I absolutely love Charade. I always aspired to be Audrey Hepburn with her quick wit.” She continued at seeing the furrow between his brows, “Oh, you’ve been missing out. We’re going to add this to your list, sweet Buckster.”

Without realizing it, her hand patted his shoulder before Bucky’s head faced her familiar touch. Darcy couldn’t help being an affectionate person. Besides, who didn’t admire this hunk of a man?

For scientific reasons of course.

Bucky’s fond smile was going to be the death of her. “Looking forward to it.”

“Now, who’d you be in a zombie apocalypse? Zombie or survivor?”

Bucky sent her a blank expression with the tilt of his head that left Darcy’s body shaking with laughter. “Sorry, I couldn’t help myself.”

“I think you know exactly what kind of role I’d play in an apocalypse.”

“Fine, your turn.”

“Favorite place in the world?”

“New York Botanical Garden,” Darcy revealed without needing to think about it.

Fascinated surprise was plain as day on his face. “Really?”

“What? Is that so hard to believe?”

“I just thought you’d say Central Park or some restaurant that had the latest trend.”

“And I thought you knew me, Buckaroo. Speaking of, what is your favorite smell?”

At the last word, a frown was painted on his face in confusion.

“What?” Darcy snorted nervously. “That’s not a weird question.”

Bucky still seemed unsure by her way of justifying herself. His next sentence was stretched into pieces. “If you say so.” He paused for a few seconds, needing a moment to think about that. “The smell of rain hitting the pavement.”

Darcy’s eyes widened empathically. “Right? Your turn.”

“Okay.” Bucky considered his next question carefully. “Three things that make you happy?”

Darcy’s mouth opened in shock, not having expected that kind of depth. “Oh geez, way to make me think so hard at night. Probably, pop-tarts, bath bombs and seeing Clint fall on his ass during training with Natasha.”

“Pop-tarts make you happy?” The corners of his mouth twitched.

“Hey, don’t knock ‘em until you tried ‘em. Don’t worry, my friend, I’ll show you my ways.” Again, her hand stroked his shoulder.

Mock outrage was on Bucky’s face. “Besides, I make Barton fall on his ass many times.”

Darcy’s hands eccentrically waved in the air. “It’s not the same. Natasha’s ways are funny and yours…” She cleared her throat as indecent thoughts hit her all at once. “Yours are just hot.”

Gray-blue eyes glinted with surprise and enthrallment. “Come again?”

Heat was slowly rising to her cheeks. “Nope, I didn’t say anything.”

Bucky’s upper body leaned forward while the flirting full force of a certain assassin enveloped her all around and made Darcy realize painfully that there was no option to escape.

Probably the heat wave from outside and her sweater wasn’t helping matters.

“Oh, but you did. You think it’s hot when I fight.” The word ‘hot’ was uttered in such a low and whispering voice that Darcy had to cross her legs.

Darcy averted her gaze, feeling like she was copying Bucky from before. “Certainly did not say that.”

Bucky’s slow, blinding smirk attacked her ovaries. “Certainly did.”

Darcy cleared her throat, speaking hastily, “Okay, it’s my turn.”

Snorts of laughter wracked through his upper body as he leaned back again. “Alright.”

As soon as her heart started beating normally again, Darcy arched her eyebrows. “What about you?”

Bucky’s expression remained blank. “What about me?”

“List three things that make you happy.”

His breath halted in his throat before he let it out slowly. “You certainly don’t pull any punches, huh?” he whispered quietly.

“Just think about it. What makes you happy, Bucky?”

The raven-haired man licked his lips before an exhaling breath pressed through them. “Three things that make me happy,” he pondered to himself. Bucky pursed his lips as his eyes glinted darkly. “Eating Sam’s food from the fridge does put a smile on my face.”

Darcy nodded once in agreement. “Granted.”

“Watching the animals in the zoo in the Bronx and … cooking old recipes from my ma.”

Darcy’s heart flourished with a blissful emotion. “Oh, you’re far too precious for this world.” She had to resist the urge to frame his cheeks like he was an adorable puppy. A soft smile was displayed on her lips. “What kind of foods?”

“Is that your next question?” Bucky raised an eyebrow, with a teasing smirk revealing his intentions.

“Fine, take it off the list. Just tell me something about Mama Barnes.”

Bucky’s fingers tapped against the cushion while his features softened. “My ma was an Italian immigrant from second generation and just like her own mother taught her … she showed me how to make Ravioli with Spinach, Meatballs and Parmesan Roasted Potatoes since I was a little kid. At least, I write it down in one of my notebooks when a certain memory resurfaces.”

Darcy let out another groan, pointing a finger at him as a reminder. “Okay, first off, I think we need to seriously stop talking about food. And second, you’ve been holding out on me. All these months and I didn’t know you could cook. And here it was me who willingly shared the famous Peach Cobbler from Mama Lewis.”

Bucky chuckled quietly to himself, letting his head drop forward. He rubbed his long legs with his palms. “It’s just something I like to do for myself.”

“Cathartic?”

“Yeah, something like that.”

Darcy was gazing fondly at Bucky, feeling so much more appreciative of him than she could ever imagine. She breathed in deeply. “So, tell me, scary movie or happy endings?”

Bucky shrugged his shoulders, letting his hair cover most of his face. “Don’t really have a preference.”

“Oh, come on. Everyone’s got one. What do you like? Some romantic movie with a happy ending or something frightening that would have someone cover their faces in your neck?”

Bucky let his arm rest casually on the backrest of the couch. The dim light couldn’t shield the slight sultry look in his eyes from her. Geez, only 10% of the Bucky Barnes flirting treatment and she was officially done for.

“Why not both?”

“Jesus, you’re a damn menace. I knew the old stories in my History class held some truth.”

Bucky let a small sigh pass his lips, almost like the feeling of melancholy was getting to him.

“As much as Steve wants the old me back, I don’t think there is any way back.”

Darcy exhaled quietly, feeling the need to reassure him. “Just give him time to adapt. Nobody wants you to be something you’re not.” She tilted her head in thought, inspecting her companion. “If anything, I like this ‘you’.”

Bucky scoffed, disagreeing with her. “You mean paranoid, flighty and anti-social?”

“You’re not flighty, I am the flighty person here. Besides, I’m social enough for the both of us. And no, I’d call you a survivor. And I have all the time in the world to make you see that too.”

Bucky was watching her silently while biting his lip.

Darcy’s facial expression turned challenging. “So, shall we continue playing our game or are you tired already of being too social with me?”

An inscrutable feeling shone in his misty ocean eyes before he raised his hand in invitation. “Be my guest.”

The moment when Darcy woke up the next morning, it felt like last night had been a dream.

New York having a blackout seemed so far-fetched.

But the moment she felt a blanket cover her body, she knew it had been real. A certain someone must have brought her to her room as soon as the electricity was up again and yielded to the gentlemanly urge to keep her warm.

Her lips formed into an unconscious smile when her cheeks blushed softly.

Darcy covered her warm face. One thing was for sure: Bucky Barnes was a danger to her emotions.

After a quick shower and a change of clothes, she was moving towards the kitchen. If there was one thing she knew, it was that scientists needed their food during their science binges.

“Oh hello there.”

She stopped in her tracks when she discovered the man who has been haunting her daydreams and previous thoughts and was leaning against the kitchen counter. His gray-colored Henley stretched his muscled arms deliciously and almost sated her morning appetite.

A small smile played on his lips as he slowly turned around. “Morning, Darce.”

“Good morning to you, too.”

Her eyes caught the steaming mugs next to his arm leaning on the marble counter, just before Bucky realized what had her attention. “I made you a cup of coffee.” He lifted it in the air as an offer.

The smell of caffeine reached her nostrils with the mention of her liquid stimulation.

A slow grin blossomed on her face. “Oh, you’re becoming my new favorite person.”

Bucky slipped his hands into the pockets of his jeans. “Who am I competing with?”

“Jane. But don’t worry, sweet Buckster, you can’t win against her.”

Bucky nodded, barely hiding a smile. “Duly noted. I’ve got a surprise for you.”

Excitement and nervous energy was vibrating through his body and his eyes glinted with something unspeakable.

“Another?” Darcy sweeped a curl of her hair behind her ear, feeling the same exhilaration thrum through her. “I’m a lucky gal. What is it?”

“Please don’t tell me this is a stupid idea but…” His hand reached behind him and out of nowhere a DVD case of Charade met her eyes.

An excited gasp was muffled by her hands. Her next words were barely comprehensible. “Barnes, you’re a God among men.”

“Would you want to watch it with me? I mean, you keep saying that I should watch those movies I have missed.”

Darcy’s eyes lit up at the mere idea. Bucky wasn’t known to seek people out on his own. She wouldn’t take this for granted.

Her hand patted his bulking chest and—did she lick her lips at the contracting pecs—cleared her throat. “You’ve picked the right person for the job.”

[cchellacat]

Tears Make The Flowers Bloom

Wintershock AU, Bucky Barnes MD/ Darcy Lewis florist.

Bucky/Darcy

Drama ~ One Shot probably.

“You know you’re in love with her, right?”

Bucky stills at the flat tone, the barest hint of bitter accusation creeping in.  He turns away from the mirror and their eyes meet.

“Since when?”  He tries to shrug it off, attempts to pretend that she hasn’t just laid his soul bare for all the world to see.

“Since pretty much always, that’s why I’m breaking up with you.”

He wishes he could say something, anything to deny the calm acceptance she lays the words out with.  His eyes drift to the suitcase at her feet, the jacket slung over one arm and the white knuckled grip on the apartment keys before she throws them to him.  He catches them with a faint tinkle, mouth a grim line.

“Three years, and it’s over just like that?  I don’t get a say in this?”

“No, you don’t.  You should have told me…  no, that’s not fair.  You did tell me about her, I just didn’t realise, not till today.  It was my own mistake.  I wasn’t paying attention.”  Green eyes crinkle a little as she attempts to smile.  “I get it, you know?  She’s everything I’m not.  You did everything to forget her.  But she’s what you want.”

“Nat…  please don’t do this.  I love you, I never lied to you- “

“I know.”  She cuts him off, voice cracking a little. “But you’re not in love with me.  She’s in your blood. Seeing the two of you-“

“Nat, nothing happened, I swear, we-“

“I didn’t say it did. I know nothing happened because I followed you.  And yet for all the nothing that happened… “

“Tasha…”

She holds up a hand as he trails off, brushing a tear from her chin.

“When you looked at her, shared a smile…  you, both of you lit up.  You should have gone back a long time ago.  You were never going to forget her and she obviously never forgot you.  So I’m leaving and you should too.  Go back home to that little town and marry her, have a couple of babies and a yard with a dog in in it.”

He takes a faltering step towards her, but he stops before he reaches her, he can see in her eyes she means it.  That she’s not going to change her mind.

“Natasha, I’m sorry.”

“Me too, Bucky…  goodbye.”

He watches her go, listens as her heels click on the tiles of the kitchen and finally as the front door clicks closed with a soft snick.  

—————————————————————————————

The air was dry and the sun was dropping low on the horizon as he drove into town.  The glint of dying light on the shiny clean hood of the pickup irritating his eyes even through the darkness of his Ray-Bans.

He knows where she’ll be. He pulls up in front of the little store, nodding to a few people as he gets out of the truck and heads inside.

The smell of flowers hangs in the air, a heady bouquet of scent that he’s always associated with her. She spent everyday after school here, when her mother was alive and running the flower shop, whole summers when both of them would hole up in the back room listening to the radio and helping arrange flowers and ribbons, learning how to make crowns from the ones that would end up in the trash.  He can still see her even now, leaning back on her elbows, head back, laughing, with a crown of tulips in her hair, the sun streaming in through the open patio doors to the small courtyard.  He thinks that’s  when he really knew and understood what it was he felt for her.  Seventeen years old in the back of a flower shop with the girl he loved, her smile making the room blinding in it’s brightness.  Darcy’s laugh could light up the world, no one could feel sad when they heard her.  

He hears her before he sees her, the faint sound of music playing tinny and high from a set of speakers so old they probably shouldn’t work at all.  Her voice carries over, pure and simple in it’s fashion, but filled with emotion that couldn’t be bought.  He leans in the door jam.  Watching as she arranges long stems of white roses into a pretty arrangement as she sings, hips swaying to the music.  The sudden colourful stream of expletives burst over the room in a flurry of petals. He rushes forward, catching her hand in his before she can wipe the blood off on her jeans.

“Hey, let me see…”

It takes her a second in the sharp pain of the moment to register him there, to respond to the soft voice and gentle touch.  When she does, her heart wants to take off, beat right out of her chest as all the air seems to leave the room and her lungs void of all oxygen.  He wasn’t meant to be here, he was meant to be back in New York with his pretty supermodel girl friend and his six figure job, not here in her little flower shop in a kitschy little town on Georgia.

“Bucky…  what?”

He’d digging in his pocket, bringing out a pack of antiseptic wipes and a band aid as she frowns in confusion, only sparing her the briefest of glances through thick lashes, as he works, cleaning the deep cut where the thorn had stuck the pad of her finger and affixing the band aid with practiced ease.

“Never got out of the habit of carrying this shit around.  You were always sticking yourself with something.”  He goes for a smile, but it comes out half pained as her fingers curl around his with a familiarity that makes his heart sore.

Darcy, lets out an incredulous snort.

“You’re ridiculous.  I’m not that bad.”

He looks at her properly then, a genuine smile playing on his lips.

“This little incident says otherwise.  I’ve only been back two minutes and you’re bleeding all over the place.”

Butterflies fill her as he gives her that crooked grin.  The one she remembers he only ever gave to her.  The one that got him to third base in the back of his dad’s old pick up down by the lake one summer night back when they were in senior year.

“Yeah…  I was wondering about that.  Thought you’d be back in New York.”

“I went back…”  he trails off for a moment before letting out a sharp bark of unhappy laughter.  “Turns out I never really left this place though….  Or you.”  

The final confession has her grasping for something to say, anything to fill the suddenly awkward feeling at the reminder of them.  

She’d done so well before, when he’d been here for old Mr Rogers funeral last month.  She’d held it all in, ten years of pinning and loneliness as she had unconsciously waited for him to come back.  She thought she hadn’t let it show, how much she’d missed him, how badly she still wanted, no, needed him.  She doesn’t want to hope, but the way he’s looking at her, eyes soft and full of warmth and longing.  It makes her mouth dry and her eyes wet.

“But you did, you left…” accusation bleeds out in a whisper, she almost regrets the words, the way he flinches at them.

“I was an idiot… I was a lot of things back then…”  He bites his lip, the gesture so painfully familiar in this strange almost surreal situation she finds herself in, that it makes her want to reach out and catch his bottom lip with her thumb, the way she used to, kiss him slow and hard till he forgot whatever it was that made him broody and sad.

“I ah…  I wanted to drop by, let you know first.  I’m back, I’m taking over from Doctor Foster as the MD. He’s retiring in six months and, well. I’m planning to stay.  This was always my home, I should never have left the way I did and I’m sorry…  I just wanted to let you know.”

Darcy tries to make sense of the news, to process it all.  But all she can focus on is his hand still tightly holding hers and words like back and home and ….

“You’re staying?  What about your-“

“We broke up.”  He cuts her off, something tells her he’s not ready to talk about it, but another little piece of her heart feels a little less empty.

“Okay.”  She lets it out, chin up, meeting his eyes properly.

“Okay.”  He parrots it back, nodding as they smile tentatively at each other.

The stand there, hands gripping and lips curving in silly smiles for far longer than appropriate before Darcy seems to figure out she should say something or let go if his hand.

“Dinner…  We should.  I mean, have you ate?”

“No.  Dinner would be good.  The Grill?”

“The Grill.”  Darcy nods, her hand finally loosening from his. He rubs the back of her hand gently before letting go.

“So…  uh, I guess we should catch up.”  

“Yeah…  ten years, I mean…  “ she stops, throwing her hands up. “You’re back to stay?  You came back for me?”

She throws it out, all the little things he had and hadn’t said.

“Darce…”

“No.  Just…  It’s been ten years and I never got over you.  I still love you and I need to know what you want, because I can’t live like this with you here and not know why…”  she feels her panic rising as she gesticulates wildly, but then  his hands are holding her arms down, and he’s telling her to breath, before she’s pressed into his chest, his arms banding around her, grounding her, holding her to earth and him and she melts into him, tears suddenly springing into existence.

“I’m back for you. Because you are my home Darcy.  I don’t deserve a second chance but I want one. I want to start again.  I don’t expect to just go back to how it was, I know I’ve got a lot to make up for-“

“Stop… just, stop.”

“Darcy, please…”  He releases her as she pushes away, wiping the tears angrily from her eyes.

“There’s something I have to tell you.”

She’s wringing her hands now, she knows she has to tell him, can’t put it off, can’t pretend, now when he’s come back.  Ten years late, but….  God she should have told him back then, but he’d been in his last year of medical school, she hadn’t wanted to disrupt his exams and then he’d called, broke up with her over a phone call, told her he wanted to live in New York, that he knew she wouldn’t, didn’t want that and…  She had frozen, the words poised on her lips, ready to tell him, but she’d been so heartbroken and angry and…

“You have a daughter.”

@southerncross47  @omnomsauruswrites  @eurynome827  @loricameback  @spacemansam  @jobean12-blog  @book-dragon-13  @grimeysociety  @sarahbeniel  @amazon-belle  

[marvelousbirthdays]

Happy Birthday, seleneaduial

July 24-Steve/Bucky/Darcy, something smutty or fluffy maybe with "Is that a challenge?", for @seleneaduial

Written by @thestarfishdancer

Sweat beads on Darcy’s upper lip, and she debates whether it was worth expending the energy to lift her arm up off the floor to wipe it off. It wasn’t, she decides, but it was worth the effort to lift them to text Jane.

Janey, I’m dying. DYING. A/C’s out and the super can’t get it fixed for hours.

Come to the tower,Jane replies immediately.

It’s tempting, so tempting, because even if it will mean the twentieth day straight of work, the lab is blessedly cool. Still, her brain would be mush even if she wasn’t melting into a puddle and she’s not up for pushing it, and she tells her BFF as much.

I’m not working,Jane texts.

Ha. Like I believe you decided to take a day off when Thor’s off world.

Didn’t decide, Jane admits. FRIDAY shut the lab down. I’m not allowed back in for 48 hours.

You tried anyway, didn’t you?

The alarms were very, very loud,Jane responds, and Darcy can almost see the rueful expression on her face. But really, you should come. Tower’s got A/C. And a pool. And margaritas.

The margaritas seal the deal, and Darcy peels herself off the floor. She has enough time to grab a quick, cool shower and stuff a change of clothes and a swimsuit in a bag before her Uber shows up and she’s off to the tower.

She feels a little gun shy when she sees that some of the other tower residents are making use of the pool, too. Dr. Banner is swimming laps while the Scarlet Witch floats on one of those big swan floaties Darcy has always kind of wanted. And, if she’s not mistaken, the Falcon is napping in the shade.  

She plops down beside Jane when her friend waves her over.

“So, you didn’t tell me it was an Avengers party,” she says lightly, wishing she’d grabbed a one piece instead of a bikini. She’s feeling self-conscious, but who wouldn’t with the amount of abs she can see on display.

“It’s not a party,” Jane wrinkles her brow in confusion, and her obliviousness to the fact that they are in the midst of actual factual superheroes is somehow reassuring. “They all live here.”

“It’s not a party if Stark isn’t here. According to him, anyway,” an amused voice says as Natasha Romanovhands her and Jane margaritas before moving to dive elegantly into the pool with barely a splash.  Darcy looks at Jane as if to say, see?

“You could live here, too, you know,” Jane says.

“What, shack up the guest room of the place you share with your boyfriend?”

“Fair point,” Jane says. “But I could talk to Pepper. I’m sure she could find you your own place.”

“Nah, don’t worry about it,” Darcy says. “My place is fine – the landlord is good and the A/C delay is not on him. This life? Not for the likes of me.  But I’ll borrow it with you from time to time,” she amends when it looks like Jane is about to protest.

Jane doesn’t have time to do as much, as there’s pounding feet and then a huge wave of water crashing over them as someone leaps into the pool, shouting “CANNONBALL!”

“Goddammit, Clint!”

Normally Darcy would blush at the sight of her two biggest, she-hopes-still-a-secret crushes, Captain Steve Rogers and his boyfriend Bucky Barnes, stride onto the pool deck. Instead, she too preoccupied with wiping the water from her face and mourning her ruined margarita. So, silver linings, she guesses.

“I told you not to leave the shield lying around,” Bucky says, amused.

“Leaving it in my room, my locked room, is not leaving it lying around,” Steve counters.

“If it is by the vent, it’s fair game,” Hawkeye says, hauling it out of the water, and it takes Darcy a moment to realized he’d leaped into the pool on the shield. No wonder the splash was so massive. “Anyway, it’s vibranium, it’s fine! Not going to get ruined by a little salt water.”

“It’s a lot of salt water, no one agreed to the ‘vents are fair game’ thing, and while you might not have wrecked the shield…” He gestures at where Darcy is sure she looks like a half-drowned rat, if Jane’s appearance is anything to go by.

“My Kindle,” Jane says despondently, shaking it as though that would fix it.  

“Maybe we can dig up some rice and save it?” Darcy suggests doubtfully, and Hawkeye has the wherewithal enough to look sheepish.

“He’ll replace it,” Natasha says, standing suddenly beside them. “And in the meantime, that gives these two cowards the perfect segue to do something they’ve been chickening out on for a while.”

“Jesus, Nat,” Steve says, shaking his head at her, while Bucky raises his eyebrows.

“Cowards? Is that a challenge?”

“Yes,” she says. “Someoneis suddenly without a drink.”

Steve sighs, looking at his boyfriend and then they are both looking at her. “Miss Lewis…”

“Darcy,” she corrects automatically.

“Darcy,” he says. “Bucky and I have been wondering…”

Bucky rolls his eyes fondly as Steve trails off. “All the super soldier serum in the world and you’re still shy with the ladies, punk.”

“I don’t see you jumping in.”

“Someone better jump in soon,” Sam calls from where he’s suddenly alert on the lounge, laugher on his face, “before I embarrass you both and do it for you.”

“Miss Lewis. Darcy,” Steve starts again as Bucky shoots a glare at Sam. “Buck and I were wondering if you might like to join us for a drink sometime.”

“Dinner, even, if you’d like.”

It’s all she can do to keep her mouth from falling open. She pinches herself to make sure she didn’t fall asleep and start dreaming, and the sharp pressure makes her realize this is not just some awesome dream her brain cooked up during sunstroke. The two hottest and also sweetest guys she’s ever been lucky enough to encounter are asking her out. She can see Jane giving her the biggest, unsubtlest thumbs up in full view of everyone, but suddenly she doesn’t care.

“I’d,” she squeaks, then clears her throat and tries again. “I’d like that very much.”

The smiles – wide and relieved and beaming – she’s answered with are amazing.

“So would we,” Bucky says, a little gruffly.

“Good,” says Natasha, smiling like the cat that got the cream. “It’s a date. And about damned time.”

“Amen,” Wanda, Sam, and Dr. Banner say simultaneously, then “Dammit, CLINT” when Hawkeye resumes his shield cannon ball, splashing everyone but the telekinetic and a sneakily, suddenly absent Black Widow.

Darcy smiles to herself as her two soon-to-be dates settle down to set a time and place, suddenly very thankful for broken air conditioning and smug matchmakers.

[dresupi]

working for (packing) peanuts

Darcy Lewis Crack Challenge 2019 |  Day 9: Must Include Packing Peanuts |

Ship: Darcy Lewis/David Haller |  Prompt: Day 9 - Must Include Packing Peanuts |  Other tags: Fake Marriage, Fake Relationship, Undercover as a couple, Kissing, Mutual Pining, Crack, Tech malfunctions |  Rated: M |  Word Count: 3216 | 

Summary:

Faking a relationship with a telepath feels like cheating somehow. Especially when <i>he’s</i> the telepath.

But Darcy’s pretty sure he’s not reading her mind. Because if he was, he’d know how much she wants to kill him for losing that listening device.

“Where do you want the books?” David had one of the boxes open in front of the built-in shelves that lined one entire wall in this new apartment.

Darcy was almost jealous she didn’t actually live here. The shelf space was bonkers. But she really liked her apartment too. It had Bowie, who was being fed by Jane for the foreseeable future, and it had only been eight hours and she already missed her cat. She’d start welling up again if she thought about that, so she pushed all thoughts of her special Bowie-boy out of her head and focused purely on the task at hand. Move into this apartment with David.

“Wherever they’ll fit,” she replied, fluffing a throw pillow and tossing it onto the couch.

The SHIELD movers were bringing in most of “their” stuff from the moving van, but they still had to figure out where to put it all. They’d practiced most of their in-public lovey-dovey routine, kind of like a weird acting/improv workshop where everything focused on getting her and David to kiss, but she was kind of flying by the seat of her pants here. The door was left open for the movers because that was what normal people would do. They wouldn’t shut the door every time someone walked out while they were moving in all their worldly possessions.

She had to play a convincing house.

Because the truth was, 99% of this stuff was on loan. As was the apartment. It was just lucky that they could grab the empty place for their undercover operation.

There was a couple in the building who was smuggling some rather impressive tech and the powers-that-were needed Darcy to prove the Joneses had it. She wasn’t actually sure if their name was Jones, but for all intents and purposes, in her head, they were the Joneses. And considering that SHIELD only got reads from the tech in this general vicinity and had no idea which couple had the stuff, the anonymous couple was lucky Darcy was just referring to them as the Joneses.

And that brought her to David. He was here because SHIELD needed his super fancy mind-reading powers to figure out which couple had the tech. Why they couldn’t just use David’s powers was beyond her, but it was cool. She felt like the Q to his Bond. If Bond was a major dork and could read minds.

“Come out and help me grab the groceries,” she said, walking past him and dragging her fingertips down his arm before grabbing his hand. They’d come with a few bags of what looked like generic pantry staples, but really the bags were filled with Darcy’s own personal tech.

And she guessed, on second thought, that the tech was the reason she was here. She designed her own, pretty much ensuring her job security. So yeah. That’s why she was here.

David came willingly, they really had this couple thing down pat. Maybe. As long as no one threw them any curveballs. Like sex pollen or an amnesia drug that made them think they were actually married.

She really wished she was kidding about that, but both had happened in previous undercover ops (not hers, but she’d heard about it) and it made everything super messy and feelsy. But there had been no evidence of either being attempted in this instance.

As it stood, she and David had a couple of lookie-loos who’d walked past the apartment door, nosily peeking in to get a good look at the ‘new neighbors’, so it was probably a good call to keep up their charade as long as was possible.

David followed her downstairs, dragging his feet a little as he listened in on the neighbors on each floor. The apartment was a fourth-floor walkup, which was a pain in the ass. Literally, her glutes were on freaking fire, man.

It felt a little weird, having him listen in on everyone around here, but he could control his powers pretty well.  He wasn’t listening to everything all at once, he could tune things out. ‘Like a radio,’ he’d explained. And if he didn’t hear anything of use, he tuned them out really quickly.

“Anything yet?” Darcy murmured.

He shook his head slightly, “Nope.”

They reached the landing on the second floor and an older woman stepped out after them, and David tugged on her hand, pulling Darcy close so the other woman could pass by them.  His fingers tickled a little at her waist, fingertips encountering bare skin as her shirt rode up on her torso. It made her visibly shiver. In a good way.

Darcy felt the woman smile a little as she passed them

“So you’re the newlyweds who moved in, I presume?” she asked, directing the question over her shoulder as she moved down each step in front of them.

Darcy felt David squeeze her tightly and tilt his head slightly to touch hers. “Are we that obvious?”

“Sorry…” Darcy replied, tilting her head slightly as well. “It’s our first place as husband and wife.”

Technically not a lie, so actually, Darcy didn’t show any lie-signs at all. Supposedly. Not that this woman looked like a threat in the slightest.

“It's not a problem at all,” the woman replied. “It’s refreshing to see people so in love.”

It was silent after, the only sound was the combined footsteps moving down to the first floor. The woman walked over to the mailboxes as Darcy and David exited the lobby.

They made their way out to the street and to where their car was parked in the temporary loading zone to pull out the bags of ‘groceries’. They’d have to come down later to move it, but they had twenty-four hours to do so. That sounded like something for tomorrow-morning Darcy because if she had to walk anymore today, her legs were going to go on strike.

The moving van SHIELD had used to transport all the household stuff was being closed up and the movers waved as they climbed into the cab.

They must have everything they needed.

David managed a wave before the movers pulled out and disappeared down the road.

“Nice job in the stairs, by the way,” he mused, hoisting two bags into his arms.

“Likewise.”

“What, like it’s hard to pretend to like you?” he asked, smirking a little as they made their way back upstairs. Darcy chewed on those words and the way his lips quirked in the corners for the rest of the way back up. They didn’t meet anyone, which was probably good, because she had a totally blank look on her face like she was trying to multiply two seven-digit numbers in her head.

They set the groceries on the counter in the kitchen, Darcy was about to go close the door when David suddenly smacked her ass, squeezing tightly before slipping the same arm around her waist and tugging her close. “Neighbor at four o’clock…” he murmured, leaning in to kiss her lips.

Her eyebrows went up in surprise, but she wasn’t facing the door, so David lingered on the kiss, attempting to wipe the surprised look off her face. Probably succeeding. Maybe. All Darcy could focus on was the firm pressure of his lips on hers. He seemed to know just how she liked it. But he promised he wasn’t reading her mind. And she had no reason to think he’d lie to her about something like this.

But that wasn’t what she should be focusing on. There was still a neighbor at the door. They were lingering as well. Kind of suspicious, considering that they were just standing there watching David grope her.

“Oh, sorry! Am I interrupting?” asked someone from the doorway.

Obviously, Darcy thought to herself, her back still to the doorway and whoever was standing there.

“Not at all,” David replied, eyes locking with Darcy’s as she composed herself and turned.

��Everything’s peachy,” she said, laughing a little too loudly, but it seemed to work.

“I just noticed you were moving in… I live down the hall if you need anything.” The woman smiled and Darcy swore she could count all her teeth. Weird.

“That’s super nice of you,” Darcy gushed, and the woman nodded, still smiling as she backed out into the hall.

“For real. Let me know if you need anything at all,” she said before making her complete exit.

David watched her leave, closing the door and sliding the deadbolt into place behind him.

“Well, this is going to be easier than I thought…”

“What is?” Darcy asked, her mind immediately going to that place. The place that seemed to stick longer and longer each time they engaged in coupley things. Her smile was almost flirtatious, but David didn’t seem to realize it.

“I think she’s one of our smugglers,” he gestured out the door.

Darcy’s eyebrows went up. “Why on earth did she come to visit us, then?”

“Oh, she has no idea who we are. We just need to get invited over to her place for dinner and plant the bug. We’ll be in and out in a week.”

A week? Darcy thought to herself. She was embarrassed to admit it, but she’d kind of hoped she’d have longer with David than a week. But she was quick to hide her disappointment.

“Awesome,” she said. “If you’re sure we have our smuggler, I have some surveillance gadgets to unpack.”

“Anything cool?” He was smiling again and woe be it to her if she were to deny him anything.

“Definitely, you wanna see?”

“Absolutely.”

“Okay, help me unpack these bags so I can get set up.”

Contrary to what he’d said before, David didn’t actually follow her into the bedroom after he’d helped unpack the gadgets. From the sound of things, he’d gone out to the living room to watch TV.

Which kind of ruffled her feathers more than she was willing to admit. Just because he didn’t have tech didn’t mean he couldn’t help with hers.

She guessed it didn’t matter anyway. There were some super cool bugs to set up.

Darcy had some really cool ones from SHIELD. Shapeshifting bugs. She called them shifters for short. Basically, you tossed them onto a table or into a junk drawer and they cloaked as a nearby object so they could remain hidden for as long as audio feeds were needed.

She took out a teeny screwdriver to tighten a few post screws and jumped when her finger got zapped. “Fucky Charms,” she muttered, biting on her lip as she furiously shook her hand to relieve the sensation.

The TV in the living room went quiet and she heard a few hurried footsteps in the doorway as David tucked his head in to check on her. “Everything alright, Darcy?”

She sucked at her fingertip until the burning ceased and nodded. “Glorious.”

For the second time that day, she suspected he was listening to her thoughts. And without her permission too. Maybe. Or maybe not? She wasn’t sure. But she’d barely exclaimed, and he was watching TV, so...

All she knew was that he’d promised he wouldn’t. And she was super embarrassed at the images he’d find in her brain if he looked there. She took a deep breath and let it out as he fully entered the room.

“So what kind of goodies are you working with?” he asked, approaching the bed, but remaining a safe distance away. Like if he got too close, he’d get hurt or something.

Either that, or he’d looked into her mind and found those very non-PG fantasies she liked to entertain about him and one (1) can of Reddi-Whip.

She pressed her lips together for a long moment before answering. “Well, this is one of our listening devices. New SHIELD tech, state of the art. I call them shifters. Because they shapeshift into other objects. So you can hide them in a junk drawer or something and pick up a great audio feed and the target has no idea.”

She held the device in her fingers, showing him how small it was. When it wasn’t activated, it looked like a little silver capsule. About two inches long. Kind of like a bullet or something.

David looked interested. “Can I see it?”

“Sure.” She handed it over. “Now, don’t drop it because…”

He had just tossed the device in the air, attempting to catch it, only to have it slip through his fingers and dropping down into the box at her feet.

The box full of packing peanuts.

“Fuck,” she muttered.

Maybe he wasn’t reading her mind after all. Because if he was, he’d have known not to fucking toss that thing into… oh for fuck’s sake.

“I’m so sorry,” he replied. “I can find it…”

“No. You can’t. Because once it comes into contact with something other than human flesh, it activates and cloaks. As a nearby object.”

“So what does that mean?” he asked, frowning a little at the box between them.

“It means it’s one of these packing peanuts now.”

There was a long, awkward silence as they both gazed down at the slightly green styrofoam bits.

“There’s no way to figure out which one it is?” he asked, his frown deepening.

She sighed, “Unfortunately, there is. I’ve had to do this before.”

“What is it?”

She reached for a smaller cardboard box and dropped some pennies inside. She sat down on the floor and picked up a packing peanut, dropping it inside. Nothing happened, and she sighed, tossing it over her shoulder.

“You’re kidding.”

“I’m not. That thing’s insanely expensive. We have to find it.”

David sat down beside her and reached for the box. “Let me take the first shift. It’s my fault.”

She laughed and patted the carpet beside her. “We’ll take turns.”

“Can I ask what’s funny?” he asked, settling down on the tan berber on the other side of the box.

“Definitely.  You see, twice today, I suspected you of trying to read my thoughts without permission, and this just clinches it.”

He looked alarmed. “What does?”

“There is no way you’re reading my thoughts if you did that.”

“I wouldn’t anyway…” he said, trailing off as he dropped another peanut into the small box of pennies. “What were they?”

“What was what?” she asked.

“The instances? You said there were two of them. What were they?”

Darcy felt her cheeks reddening a little, but she went on like she wasn’t flustered as hell. “Oh, when I zapped my finger, I thought you were reading my mind to find out I did it.”

He laughed. “No. You yelled out ‘Fucky Charms’ really loud. Like… super loud. Louder than the TV even.”

She scoffed. “It wasn’t that loud.”

“I guarantee it was.”

“I mean. Maybe it was.”

“Maybe it was?”

“Okay, I thought I was muttering. Apparently not.”

“Shout-muttering maybe.”

She laughed softly and reached for a handful of peanuts. “Okay. Shout-muttering.”

“What was the other one?”

Her eyes widened a little as a packing peanut stayed stationary in her fingertips, hovering over the box. “I plead the fifth.”

“What? You can’t plead the fifth to friends,” he argued, reaching out and plucking the peanut from her hand and dropping it into the box.

She pursed her lips as if deep in thought. “Yeeeaahhhh, I think you can.”

“Can’t.”

“Can.”

“Can’t.”

“Can.”

The clock chimed nine on the mantle out in the living room, and Darcy sighed, dropping another peanut into the box to no avail.

“We need to take a break to go have sex in a few minutes,” she said, nodding towards the bed and hoping no, praying that her statement would be enough to keep his mind off what the second instance had been.

Sure enough, David looked surprised at her words. “To go… have… sex?”

“Fake sex. Believe me. That’s the last thing I want to do with you right now,” she said with a smirk.

“Oh really? Thanks. Thank you so much.” His sarcasm was so thick, she could slice it up and make a sandwich, but that was fine. If he was being sarcastic, he wasn’t niggling for answers.

She wiped her hands on her pants and pushed up off the floor. “For all I know, you wouldn’t be able to find anything. I mean, that’s been my experience with you, after all,” she said, gesturing to the pile of peanuts.

“I can find everything,’ he assured her. “Just like I can find out everything. Like what that second instance was where you thought I was reading your mind?”

Darcy rolled her eyes. “Just. Get on the bed, Casanova.”

Sex simulations were, fortunately, something they’d practiced in their improv/training course, so when he jumped up on the end of the bed, she followed suit, but centered herself more, while he was up at the head of the bed.

Once they were in position, they started bouncing the mattress a little. SHIELD had thankfully provided them with a very squeaky mattress, so it sounded obscene.

“Tell me,” he whispered, his gaze intent on her as he bounced around, raising his voice only to let out a very convincing grunt. One that was decidedly for their neighbors’ benefit and not hers.

“No,” she replied, speeding her bouncing a little. “Not telling.”

“Please. I need to know if it’s a weird vibe I put out…” he countered, still softly, his eyes soft and pleading as he kept up a very steady rhythm.

“No.”

“Darcy…”

“David…”

“I’d tell you.”

She scoffed, “Unlikely.”

“Please,” he said, reaching out to grasp her hand.  She didn’t look at him. She couldn’t. Not when what they were doing was so ridiculous.

“When you kissed me,” she murmured. “I wondered if you were reading my mind because you were doing exactly what I liked.”

David stopped bouncing for a moment, his face almost unreadable as he soundlessly dropped to the floor. Darcy panicked a little, slowing her bounces too as she sat down, sliding her feet to the floor and scooting over to the side where he was standing. “It doesn’t need to--”

He placed his finger to his lips and shook his head.

“David.”

Another shake of his head as he stepped closer, his knees bumping the bed as he stepped between her knees and bent over her, lips pressing breathlessly against hers. Firm as his hand slid into her hair, fisting a handful of it as he parted his lips, tongue swiping lightly between her lips. When he broke off the kiss, she chased after him, a soft giggle escaping when he cupped her face in his hands and pulled away.  “Like that?”

She nodded and he kissed her again, reaching over for the headboard as he gave it a good shake, bumping it back against the wall and let out a soft moan. “Multitasking?” he whispered.

Darcy agreed and moved back up to the pillows, a slightly louder moan slipping from her lips when he followed. It wasn’t entirely fake, full disclosure.

She was pretty sure they’d be up until the ass crack of dawn finding that listening device in the packing peanuts, but neither of them really cared about it right then.

[lalunaunita]

Lucky Shot Chapter 6: Roll With the Punches

An update for my Shieldshock fic!

Characters/pairing: Darcy Lewis and Steve Rogers Rating: Teen for language Hit ‘lucky shot’ in the tags to read the other chapters on Tumblr, or visit my Ao3 page. Enjoy!

Chapter 6: Roll With the Punches

Steve tilted his head forward and did his best not to sniff back any of the blood issuing from his nose. His instinct was to lean back, but Natasha had assured him this was the new, proper way to stop a bloody nose. Granted, he was supposed to have a hand free to staunch the flow. He flexed involuntarily against his ropes.

Being his antagonist’s punching bag was nothing new for Steve. As long as it kept the man’s attentions off of Darcy, it worked out fine for him. Now that the leader was gone, the atmosphere of the cabin had shifted. Someone had turned on Monday night football, and the remaining men were gathered in the living room to watch. They alternately cheered and cursed as the game progressed. Steve wouldn’t have minded watching a little, but their thick bodies blocked his view. He sighed.

How could he have let things deteriorate so badly? Despite the physical pain he was in and the concern over the various plots they were a part of, all he could focus on was the fright in Darcy’s eyes at the diner. He flexed again and dropped his head, getting a glimpse of the bloody mess down the front of his ropes. He’d set out to protect her and he’d failed. More than that, though. He’d promised he would keep her safe. Something inside him felt...ashamed at not keeping his promise.

It went deeper than that, he admitted to himself. Get real, Steve, he chided. You like her.

He tried to grin to himself, but it turned into a grimace. Other than the obvious, he didn’t have much to bring to the table in that regard. Darcy wasn’t shy about complimenting his physical appearance, but they didn’t have anything in common. The same was true of everyone he knew. Work was his commonality with everyone he associated with. He didn’t play video games, hardly had time for sports, wasn’t a movie buff. Sam and Natasha didn’t seem to mind, but they were the exceptions. People didn’t hang out with Captain America, and Captain America didn’t hang out with people. They found him when there was work to be done.

Steve shook his head to clear it. He needed to focus on the problem at hand, not wallow in self-pity. He considered the chair he’d been placed in. It was reinforced steel. No matter how he strained, the chair had no give and he couldn’t get any leverage. A sense of irony descended over Steve. He’d been to some of the most secure facilities in the world, seen the restraints developed and perfected for dangerous superpowered criminals. Attempts had been made on him before, with magnetic handcuffs and all kinds of new technologies. These guys had ropes and a good chair, and he was stuck.

A particularly loud cheer from the living room was overlaid with thunder from outside. The kitchen’s small window showed black outside. The storm had only grown worse in the hours since he and Darcy were separated. He flicked his eyes back to the living room. He’d kept careful count of the assholes in there and reassured himself that none of them had left to go visit the gorgeous young woman locked in a back room of the cabin. Their desires appeared to be strictly related to watching the game.

A second round of cheers was interrupted as the entire cabin went pitch black, followed by shouts of dismay. Thunder followed.

“What the-”

“Power’s out!”

“Shit! Did you see whether Leon made the tackle?”

Several flashlights popped on. A couple of beams ran over the kitchen, where Steve sat, motionless.

“Well, he’s not going anywhere at least. You okay, Captain Rogers?” asked one voice in the darkness.

“Peachy,” Steve replied, lifting an eyebrow. The flashlights turned away from his face and he blinked, readjusting.

“Should I fire up the generator?” asked one deep voice.

“Yes!!” several voices chorused in response.

Steve smiled at the urgency. Football was a serious matter, as long as the boss wasn’t around. Deep Voice stamped out into the storm and the rest settled back down into quiet conversation.

Steve closed his eyes, not that it made much difference, and thought. Could he use the dark to his advantage? They’d wisely tied down his legs at the ankles. He potentially could stand in the chair, but most movement would make a lot of noise. The drugs were out of his system now, but he hadn’t eaten in a while. Would that affect him?

Small, cold fingers threaded into one of his palms and he felt warm breath on his ear.

“It’s just me,” Darcy whispered.

“Darcy, what the hell are you doing?” Steve whispered back, ignoring the shiver that went down his spine.

She brought her lips to his ear once more before melting into the darkness. “Busting you out, Tough Guy.”

He felt a tugging, sawing vibration at his ropes. What could she have possibly found? He smiled to himself. All that talk about underestimating herself, and he’d done the very same thing. He felt the ropes around his arms slacken, then drop away.

Darcy’s cool hand rested on his shoulder. He brought his face up blindly.

“Ankles. Hurry.”

Steve shook out his arm fatigue, rolling his shoulders and stretching his neck. He didn’t hear any noise from Darcy, but soon felt the same tugging at each ankle, and the same release. The football talk went on in the other room, the men oblivious. Steve felt something pressed into his hand. Darcy’s voice was back at his ear.

“Box cutter. Best I could do.”

“It’s fantastic, Doll.”

Before he could stop himself and before she could draw away, Steve gripped her hand in his. She responded with a gentle squeeze of his fingers. He stood, testing his balance in the dark.

“Stay behind me. Maybe we can sneak out before-”

A sound like a large lawn mower fired up from outside the cabin and the lights popped back on. The men in the living room cheered as the screen of the ancient TV lit up. The cheers turned to dismay as several turned and saw Steve reaching for his shield against the back wall of the kitchen.

“He’s loose!”

“Shoot him! Don’t let them get out!”

Taking a calculated risk, Steve snatched Darcy around the waist, pressing her close. Shield in front of them, he threw himself backward against the kitchen wall. The flimsy cabin’s structure gave way at once. They tumbled backward through crumbling drywall and old, splintering wood. Bullets pinged off of Steve’s shield as he landed flat on his back in the mud, Darcy on top of him. Instinctively, she rolled away from the hole in the wall and the men with guns.

“Truck! Out front!” Steve directed as he jumped to his feet and followed her through the pounding rain.

It was pitch black as they rounded the back of the cabin and made for the gravel drive out front. Steve was tempted to try for the woods that surrounded them, but he had no idea of their location. Trying to hide Darcy safely in the woods in a storm in the middle of nowhere was a bad idea, his earlier suggestion notwithstanding. Instead, they came to the first SUV they saw. Aware that they had only moments, Steve yanked the door open, leaned in, and ripped away the plastic casing around the steering column. He slashed several wires with the box cutter and hotwired the ignition, wincing at the sparks. He threw the cutter on the passenger seat and leaned back out.

“Get in. You’re driving.”

Darcy didn’t argue. She stepped up into the compartment and strapped on her safety belt.

“Okay, Steve, get in-”

She was interrupted by a stream of bullets that pattered and whined around them. Steve slammed the door shut.

“Drive! I’ll buy you some time!” he shouted through the closed window.

Darcy shook her head, frowning, but he heard her shift into drive and jam down on the gas pedal. The SUV roared forward, headed for a tall, chain link gate with a padlock that cut across the gravel drive. It was dimly lit by a utility bulb, barely visible in the gloom.

Steve turned and sprang straight up, drawing the fire of several men on the porch. He came down on the roof of the cabin, scrambling over its slippery surface. A crash sounded; Darcy had driven right at the gate without slowing and burst through. Good girl. He kept his eyes on Darcy’s tail lights as she drove toward the road that must lay beyond the compound. They shifted left, then he lost sight of them among the trees.

“Come down, Rogers! There’s nowhere else to go!” shouted Deep Voice.

He wasn’t wrong. Steve gripped the stonework chimney that rose out of the roof. Light spilled out from the front porch on one side and the hole he’d busted through the wall on the other. Long shadows revealed the men and their weapons arranged in a circle around the cabin. He was surrounded on all sides.

Steve took a deep breath and leapt out and over, angling his shield beneath him. Staccato muzzle fire followed him into the dense forest, the bullets pinging uselessly off of vibranium. He reached out blindly with one arm in the darkness, felt the smack of something hard, sturdy, and splintery against his bicep, and managed to hook his elbow around a branch. He used his momentum to swing out further, hoping to reach a carpet of pine needles rather than slam into a tree trunk. The instant his feet felt ground, he rolled forward to break his fall. He rose and ran as fast as he could in the direction of Darcy’s tail lights. He angled further to the left, hoping the road circled around the section of trees he ran through. Sure enough, he shortly reached a chain link fence that marked the edge of the compound, smacking against it heavily. He could see the road outside. He gathered his feet under himself and jumped over, clearing the top with inches to spare.

He came down into a wet grassy ditch on the other side just as the SUV roared up, but Darcy couldn’t see him in the darkness. Steve made a last, desperate leap, feet slipping on the grass beneath him. He slammed against the driver’s side of the SUV and gripped the side mirror, legs dragging against the asphalt. Darcy screamed inside the vehicle.

“Darcy, it’s me!” Steve yelled.

She got a good look at him, then braked suddenly. Steve held on as his momentum reversed and threatened to toss him forward onto the road. He yanked open the door behind her and clambered inside, pushing the shield in first. As soon as it slammed shut, Darcy hit the gas.

“Steve, you fucking insane...weirdo...jerk-face...martyr complex - oh, shit, your face…” Darcy’s stream of words and irritation attenuated as he climbed into the front seat.

She reached out a hand, tenderly touching one of his bruised eyes. Her voice trembled with new tears.

“That smug guy was hitting you, wasn’t he?”

Steve reached for her hand and pulled it away before she could smear the blood on his cheeks and chin. “Don’t worry about it, Doll. It’ll be fine in a few hours. Just focus on the road. They might look for me for a few more minutes, but you’re the person they really want. We have to keep going.”

Darcy frowned, staring forward through the pounding rain barely kept at bay by busy windshield wipers.

“I’m so sorry, Steve,” she whispered.

Steve cocked his head. “You don’t have anything to be sorry for, Darcy.”

“Yes I do. I left you there, and I ran. I’m such a coward.”

“I told you to. You had to, to stay alive.”

“That doesn’t mean anything. You just… you get left behind, Steve. A lot. It’s not fair. The military left you in the ice. Hydra pushed you out of SHIELD, made you a fugitive. All that you’ve given to others… you take all this shit - from everyone - and they expect you to just deal.”

“Seriously, Darcy, it’s okay.”

“It’s not okay, Steve! You aren’t some caped crusader, you’re a person. You don’t deserve to be left behind. To be used and cast off. To take the beatings for someone else. I’m sorry, really sorry, and I’m not going to do it again.”

Darcy sniffled and stared straight ahead, placing both hands securely on the wheel.

Steve sat, mouth slightly agape. Darcy’s words rocked him, right down to his toes.

In the army he’d been a symbol, a rallying voice for his compatriots, and eventually a martyr. In this age, he was tool, a weapon, and he was fine with it as long as he was pointed in the right direction. His life wasn’t worth much otherwise. And he was disposable. That was the nature of the beast, wasn’t it? You use a tool until it breaks. If it doesn’t break, you use it some more.

Something confusing and ill-defined rose up within Steve. He’d given over dreams of being an artist, of having his own life. He’d given them over for the greater good. He’d never looked back. After all, his likely option had been to die an early death, weak and alone, no parents, no wife, no kids, no friends. He’d traded that in for a better way. He was committed to making good on the trade.

But Darcy didn’t understand all that. She looked at him and saw the bruises. She didn’t understand that the damage goes away. Or maybe… maybe he didn’t understand. Maybe the damage was there, under the surface, hidden from casual eyes. Steve frowned. He hadn’t been truly seen by anyone so clearly since… Peggy.

“Darcy, I…” at a loss as to what to say, Steve ran his hand through his dirty hair and leaned back.

“Ah, shit,” Darcy muttered.

Steve followed her gaze through the windshield. A tree felled by the storm lay across the road. Sheets of rain hammered the ground in front of the headlights.

“What do we do?” asked Darcy as she braked carefully on wet asphalt.

“I got it,” Steve assured her.

“Oh, right. Forgot I was road-tripping with Cap for a second there.”

Feeling their awkwardness forgotten, Steve shot her a grin as he got out - quickly though, as their pursuers had to be close behind. He jogged to the heavy tree, visible in the bright headlights. But the moment he touched it, a cacophony of sound erupted.

Darcy leaned on the horn and flashed the headlights, pointing upward. Simultaneously, the unmistakable sound of a helicopter descended upon them. Steve squinted up into its bright beam. Angled raindrops sprayed down on him as its blades spun, whipping up local precipitation into a flurry of water. He hailed it with a wave.

Darcy ran from the vehicle to join him, putting up one hand to shade her eyes from the beam. She’d thoughtfully grabbed his shield, Steve realized, perturbed by how much he enjoyed the sight of her running toward him holding it. Her hair was thoroughly wet with rain and droplets clung to the lenses of her glasses. Her full lips were just as striking without the cherry-red lipstick she usually wore. He dragged his eyes away as she came to his side.

“Please tell me these are friends!” she shouted over the noise of the helicopter’s blades.

“Yep. This is definitely our ride.”

“It’s about time!” Darcy laughed.

She handed Steve the shield and he took it almost reluctantly. They were both soaked to the bone and he knew he looked a mess, but Darcy’s bright smile in the darkness buoyed his heart. He remembered the feel of her fingers on his in the cabin; he wanted that again. Shyly, he reached out and touched her hand. His heartbeat hammered when she gripped his fingers tightly in response.

The helicopter slowed, then stopped its descent. A rope ladder rolled down from the open side as a loudspeaker boomed.

“Did you miss us, guys?” Black Widow’s amplified voice came down at them. “Hurry up, it’s chilly out here.”

Steve let go of Darcy’s hand and grabbed a rung to steady the ladder.

“Ladies first,” he offered, feeling the attempt to be charming blunted by his black-and-blue mug.

Darcy hurried up the ladder. Natasha got her secured, then turned to Steve as he settled himself and strapped in.

“We caught up with Doctor Tennison on his way back in. He was only too happy to give up the location of this compound in exchange for a deal. Apparently there was some blackmail involved; we’ll let the lawyers sort it all out.”

Steve nodded. “I guessed as much. And the ringleader of this circus?”

Nat pulled a face. “We got his driver. He managed to evade. Do you know who he is?”

Steve shook his head. “I don’t. I can give a description. Several of the guys back in the cabin are ex-SHIELD, of course, but I haven’t met their boss before.”

A quiet gasp from Darcy interrupted them.

“He got away?” she asked, eyes fearful. “What about Brendan?”

_____________________________________

Stay tuned for more!

~luna’s tip jar~

[littleplebe]

Shieldshock prompt: Darcy gets stranded somewhere and Steve comes to the rescue. It can be a first meeting type thing or an established relationship. Or, they know each other, but not very well.

“What did you say her namewas?”

Steve Rogers adjusted thebackpack on his shoulder as he jogged back toward his bike. He was running lowon fuel, not just for his bike but for himself as well. Sad blue eyes fixed onthe motel before him, drawn there by the lovely smell of food and the muffledsound of eighties music. He was supposed to be in there, soaking up the warmthand eating a hearty meal after a long day’s journey. But his emergency phonehad gone off before he had even reached the door of the motel.

“Lewis,” the distracted voiceof Clint Barton floated through from the other end of the line. “Darcy Lewis.She’s hard to miss. Dark hair, short, mouthy… well endowed.”

Steve snorted at his choice ofwords. “Right. Send me the location. I’ll get to her as soon as I can.”

“Great. She’s just down theroad. Drive straight.” There was a pause, then Clint spoke in a hurry, “Theparty’s starting. Gotta go.”

“Clint, send me her location!”Steve repeated forcefully but the line was already dead. “Excellent,” hemuttered, stuffing the phone in his pocket and kick starting his bike.

Why had he decided to returnhome? He was better off living alone in the hills with just his shield forcompany. People expected too much of him. Not that helping a dame—whose car hadbroken down in the middle of the highway—was demanding work, but it had beenhis last day with himself, the final few hours before he had to haul himselfback to a life of avenging and superhero-ing.

He had been looking forward toa peaceful dinner and a good night’s sleep, but there he was, driving aroundblindly in the night in search of a woman he’d never met.

The road was dark anddeserted, light rain sleeked up the asphalt, and the thin fog made it difficultto see over a certain distance. Steve kept his eyes and ears open as he drove.Clint didn’t call him again, nor did his phone beep with Darcy Lewis’ location.God, he had such idiots for friends. She’s just down the road. Drivestraight. What the hell kind of instruction was that? He had been scouringthe highway for the past ten minutes and he hadn’t come across a single brokendown car.

Five minutes later, wet andirritated, he was on the verge of giving up and calling Clint when flashing amberlights in the distance caught his eye. Steve squinted through the mist andrealized they were car indicator lights. His fingers curled firmly around theaccelerator and he sped down the road at full throttle, skidding to a haltbehind a bright yellow Beetle.

A creature that was most definitelynot human stepped out from behind the hood and regarded him in awe. “Well, I’llbe damned,” it said with a delighted laugh. “Captain America in the flesh. Ithought Clint was dicking around when he said he was sending America’s favoriteson to rescue me.”

Steve sighed and slid off hisbike. He was so not in the mood for smartass fangirls. “Ma’am,” he greeted with forced politeness.

She stuck out her hand for himto shake. Steve noticed she wore fake fingernails, black and pointy, like awitch. “Hi, Captain Perfect. I’m Darcy Lewis. But you already knew that,” shesaid with a grin.

“Uh… hi.”

She had so much make-up on, hecould barely make out her face. Skin painted white and eyes surrounded by darkeye shadow were nothing compared to the purple lipstick that stretched right uptill her cheekbones in a creepy perpetual smile. As if that wasn’t enough, her shorthair was grimy and fell over her forehead, and her entire body was covered inblack leather—shirt, pant, boots, even the belt. A silver buckle, shaped like askull the size of Steve’s palm, sat on her belt, grinning ominously up at him.

Darcy caught him checking outher costume and proudly brushed her feather epaulets. “Pretty amazing, huh? Imade it myself.”

“Great,” Steve said, tryingnot to grimace. It was obvious she had worked hard on her costume, but hecouldn’t help being a tiny bit spooked by her unnaturally wide smile and longfake nails. Besides, he had no idea who or what she was supposed to be, so hewasn’t much impressed.

Unperturbed by his reticence,Darcy beckoned him to follow her to the front of her car. “She won’t start. Canyou fix her?”

“No,” Steve replied a littletoo quickly, causing her to raise a brow. “I mean, not right now. The rain’spicking up. We should get going.”

Darcy cast a dubious glance atthe slowly thickening fog surrounding them. “Can we reach the tower in time forthe party?”

Steve stared at her as if shehad lost her mind. The tower was an hour away from where they were. There wasno way he was driving all the way there in this weather, especially not on hisbike. They’d get soaked in no time.

“No,” he replied emphatically,as if it was obvious. “We’re going to Motel 66 down the road. Spend the nightthere.”

“What? No!” Darcy exclaimed,slamming the hood shut and shaking her head vehemently. “I’m not going back inthe opposite direction. We need to go to the tower.”

“Ms. Lewis,” Steve said brusquely. “It’s dangerous to drive in such weather. A few more minutes and wewon’t even be able to see our own feet in this fog.”

Her face fell, or at least hereyes did anyway. It was difficult to accurately read her facial expressions.The fake painted smile was throwing him off.

“But… but I worked so hard onthis costume,” Darcy whispered. “I spent weeks preparing for Halloweenand now you’re saying I can’t go to Stark’s party?”

Steve wasn’t much of aHalloween fan, didn’t really understand the hype, but he kinda felt sorry for DarcyLewis and her wasted costume, creepy as it was.

He shot her an apologeticlook. “Come on. We’ll come back for your car later.”

They quickly mounted his bikeand Steve spun it around, zooming down the way he came from. Darcy clutched hisshoulders in a death grip, the pointed tips of her fingernails diggingpainfully into his shirt.

“Why couldn’t Clint come pickme up?” she shouted over the howl of the wind.

“He knew I was in the vicinity,so he called me instead.”

“Why are you not attendingStark’s party?”

“Not interested.”

He thought he heard hermutter, “Of course, you aren’t,” but decided to ignore it.

Motel 66 came around soonerthan he had estimated. The fog there was lighter and someone had turned theporch lights on. Steve sighed at the sight. Just looking at the run downestablishment filled him with warmth. He couldn’t wait to go inside and get outof these wet, sticky clothes. A hot shower and soft bed would do him some goodafter a nearly eighteen hour drive.

Darcy walked beside him, silentlyseething. She burst through the front door and immediately went to sulk in acorner booth while Steve made a beeline for the reception desk.

“Two rooms for the night.” He slida wad of bills across the counter.

“Sorry, hon,” said the managerwith an apologetic smile. “We only have one room available.”

“Really, any room would do,”Steve insisted. “I don’t care if the bed’s unmade or the room is infested withrodents. Just please, I need two rooms.”

The manager—Elise, her nametagread—straightened up and narrowed her eyes at him. In the span of two seconds,all the friendliness vanished from her face.

“None of our rooms areinfested with rodents, sir,” Elise said indignantly. “Now we only haveone room available. Do you want it or not?”

Steve frowned at her tone.“Are you sure? I’m willing to pay extra if that’s what it takes.”

“How generous of you. Pleaselet me check again.” Instead of checking her computer or even her register,Elise kept glaring at him like he’d called her ugly and smelly. “Nope,” shefinally declared. “Just the one room.”

Any other day, her attitude wouldhave amused him. But hunger and exhaustion were making him grumpy. He pinchedthe bridge of his nose in annoyance and mumbled in resignation, “I’ll take it.”

“Excellent choice, sir.” Shetook his money and tossed him the key to his room. “In case you’re interestedin dinner, tonight’s special is Zombie Chicken.”

“Sounds delicious,” Steveintoned wryly.

He turned and headed towardDarcy, who was speaking on the phone. To Clint, it seemed, because she endedthe call with, “You’re an asshole!”

Other than Tony Stark, Steveonly knew one asshole and that was Clint Barton.

“What did he say?” he asked, slidinginto the seat opposite Darcy.

“That he can’t come pick me upbecause he’s having too much fun at the party.” She gave him a desperate look.“Can’t someone, like, fly the quinjet here or something?”

“Ms. Lewis, the quinjet is formissions, not public transport,” Steve informed her tiredly.

Darcy huffed and banged herhead against the table once. “I hate this! I’m supposed to be having fun at theparty, too.”

“It’s just Halloween,” Stevesaid breezily, flipping open the menu and giving it a quick scan. “Calm down.I’ll order us some food.”

“Calm down?” Darcy criedincredulously, making him wince. “Calm down? Do you have any idea howlong it took me to make this costume?”

Steve wisely remained silent.

“No, you don’t. So, don’t youfrikking tell me to calm down. I’m entitled to some anger.”

“Is this man bothering you,dear?”

Steve looked up to see Eliselooming over them, her beetle eyes fixed suspiciously on him.

“We’re together,” he informedher irritably, then realized what it sounded like and hastened to add, “I mean,not together together but…”

“Oh, I hope not,” Elisemocked, throwing a wink at a bewildered Darcy.

“Ha-ha,” Steve said dully,going back to reading the menu. “I guess we’ll try the Zombie Chicken.”

“Yeah, whatever,” Darcyresponded to his questioning gaze.

Elise nodded inacknowledgement but didn’t leave. “That’s a great costume, hon,” she said aftera beat, eyeing the bouquet of feathers on Darcy’s shoulders. “It’s from thatshow, isn’t it? Death Book?”

Darcy looked surprised.“Yeah,” she said slowly. “Death Note. You’ve seen it?”

“No, but my husband’s a fan.He’d die of happiness if he saw you in this outfit.”

Steve watched in fascinationas Darcy’s entire demeanor changed. She sat up straighter and regarded themanager with shining eyes. “Really? I’d love to meet him.”

Elise laughed. “Come on. He’sright over there.”

Darcy jumped up to follow her.“Be right back, Captain.” She didn’t spare him a single glance.

Steve yawned and rubbed at hisburning eyes. His stomach grumbled but he really just wanted to forgo dinnerand go to bed. He looked up when a shadow fell over him. It was Elise. Heraised a brow at her. She didn’t seem to like him much. So what was she doingvoluntarily seeking his company?

Behind her, he could see Darcyat the reception desk, chatting animatedly with a bearded man.

“I can get the food deliveredto your room,” Elise suggested when Steve looked back at her. Her begrudging concern toward him was entertaining. “You should change into dryclothes if you don’t wanna fall sick.”

I can’t fall sick wason the tip of his tongue, but he simply nodded and said, “Thanks.”

Elise jerked her thumb in thedirection of Darcy. “Don’t worry about her. She’ll be fine with us.” Havingsaid her bit, she spun around and marched away.

Steve sat there for a minute,contemplating what had happened and wondering if he should know who exactlyDarcy Lewis was dressed up as.

“Death Note,” he whispered tohimself, pulling out his tiny notebook and scribbling the name on a blank page.Stuffing the book back into his pant pocket, he grabbed his backpack andstarted toward the stairs, eyes involuntarily finding a laughing Darcy as sheand Elise posed while Elise’s husband wildly snapped their photographs.

Steve shook his head and keptwalking, although Darcy’s laughter followed him all the way to the second floorlanding. He didn’t know what it was that was making him use his enhancedhearing and keeping it focused on Darcy, but he couldn’t stop himself fromlistening to her voice. He had never heard anyone laugh so openly, so freely,so loudly before. It was refreshing.

“That man of yours,” Elise’svoice floated up the stairs and Steve paused in the process of unlocking thedoor to their room. “What’s up with him? Is he such an ass all the time?”

Darcy’s distracted voicefollowed immediately. “Oh no. Everyone says—hey, do you have any apples?Shinigami like apples. I wanna be holding one for the next photo. Where was I?Oh, yeah. I’m sure he’s just tired. Everyone says he’s a standup guy. He’sCaptain America, you know. Saved the world a couple of times.”

There was a trill of amusedlaughter, then Elise teased, “Oh, yeah? Then, I’m Meryl Streep.”

Steve pushed open the door andwalked in, not wanting to eavesdrop anymore. A small, confused smile crept upon his face as he dropped his bag on the floor and stripped out of his shirt. Despitehaving gotten off to a bad start earlier, Darcy hadn’t once hesitated to standup for him. He didn’t know what to make of that, what to make of her,considering he could only picture her as a demon from hell with a wide scarysmile.

———

He woke up with horrible bodycramps. The old Motel 66 couch wasn’t hard or lumpy, but it was a little toosmall to accommodate all of his bulk. He groaned and pushed himself into a sittingposition, cursing under his breath at how shitty he felt.

Leaving the bed for Darcy had seemedlike the gentlemanly thing to do, although it came at a price. His neck hurt,his shoulders felt heavy, and when he tried to dig out his phone from underneaththe couch cushions, he couldn’t feel his right hand.

The phone showed two missedcalls from Clint. Steve called him immediately and the archer picked up on thefirst ring.

“What’s up, Cap? Looks likeyou slept in. What, no morning yoga or bird watching for you today?”

“I don’t bird watch.”

“Sure ya do. Nat says youreally like ‘em birdies.”

“You’re disgusting.” The otherside exploded with rowdy laughter. Steve could make out Tony and Natashachortling in the background while Clint shamelessly sang a made-up song aboutSteve and his so-called birdies. Used, by now, to the antics of his idiotfriends, Steve sighed and inquired calmly, “Why did you call earlier?”

Clint stopped singing. “Oh, yeah. Tony’s taken care of Darcy’s car. Tell her it’s at thetower, all fixed.”

“Fine.”

“Where is she? How’s shedoing?”

Steve glanced at the lump onthe bed. “She’s sleeping.” There was a chorus of suggestive ooohs and aaaahsbefore Steve snapped, “Knock it off. Nothing happened.”

“Whatever you say, Cap. Bringthe birdie home safe, okay?”

Steve hung up and proceeded tobury his face in his hands. “Christ.”

The Avengers would bethe death of him, he was sure of it. The temptation to turn his bike around andflee back to his little cabin in the mountains was very strong. But logic eventuallywon out and he grudgingly got to his feet. The serum had worked its magic inthe last five minutes while he had been contemplating escape. Thecramps were gone and the pain in his neck had ebbed away. Feeling slightlypacified, he started to make his way to the bathroom when he noticed somethingstrange on the floor.

A closer inspection revealedit to be a wig.

Utterly astonished, Steveturned back to the bed and noticed what he had failed to see the first time. Normalcreamy skin, long wavy hair, pale pink lips occasionally trembling with tinysnores, a glimpse of bare thigh—

“Shit!” Steve blinked severaltimes, as if he had looked directly at the sun and couldn’t get rid of the burninglight behind his retinas.

He quickly averted his eyesfrom her leg and found himself studying her face instead. She looked sodifferent without the demon make-up. Obviously, he hadn’t expected her to looklike a Shinigami or whatever in real life, but Steve couldn’t contain the mild surprisehe felt at seeing her look so normal, so pretty.

He watched her for a few longseconds before his stomach made an embarrassing sound and he hastened to thebathroom.

When he stepped back out,Darcy was sitting up in bed, looking lost. “Morning, Cap,” she mumbled blearilywhen she saw him.

Steve stared at her. “Is thatmy shirt?” He hadn’t seen it before with the blanket tucked around hershoulders but that was definitely his shirt she was wearing.

Darcy looked down at herselfand promptly went red. “Sorry,” she said, giving him a sheepish smile. “All myclothes are at the tower and I didn’t wanna sleep in my costume, you know. It’dbe so uncomfortable.”

“Right,” Steve said awkwardly.“Of course.”

There was a pause in whichDarcy gathered all her hair and pulled it up in a ponytail while Steve gaped ather like a silly fool.

“What’s wrong?” she asked whenshe caught him in the act.

He looked away. “No-nothing.Do you, uh, do you wanna…?” He jerked his thumb toward the bathroom. “We canget some breakfast once you’re ready and leave within the hour. Clint’s alreadycalled twice.”

“What did he say?”

“Your car’s at the tower. Tonyfixed it.”

“Awesomesauce. Give me tenminutes.” She must have forgotten she wasn’t wearing any pajamas because sheflipped the blanket right off her body, only to gasp loudly and cover herselfagain. Her mortified gaze found Steve’s. “Uh… could you?”

He gulped and nodded,dutifully turning his back to her. Soft pitter-patter of feet rushed past himand Steve tried not to think about what he’d see if he suddenly turned around.

“I’ll wait for you downstairs,”he called when he heard the bathroom door slam.

“Okay. Do you have a pair ofjeans or shorts that I can borrow?”

“Nothing that would fit you,”Steve responded honestly. She was too petite to fill any of his clothes. She’ddrown in them. They would engulf her whole—and, honestly, he didn’t want tothink about Darcy Lewis wearing his clothes. He really didn’t.

Dark hair, short, mouthy…well endowed.

Dammit, Clint.

———

“So the rain stopped,” Darcysaid conversationally, digging into her newly arrived plate of pancakes.

She kept shifting around inher seat and Steve could only imagine how uncomfortable her leather pants weremaking her. She seemed to think they had shrunk overnight, and with hisshirt still wrapped around her ample curves, Steve didn’t have the heart todisagree with her.

“Elise said it rained allnight,” Darcy continued, giving him a meaningful look. “In the city as well.Imagine being stuck indoors on Halloween.”

“Yes,” Steve deadpanned. “Worstthing ever.”

“Whoops, forgot who I wastalking to.”

He immediately regretted hissarcasm. Darcy didn’t seem offended but he still owed her an apology for theway he had behaved last night.

“Ms. Lewis—” he began.

“Darcy.”

He was caught off-guard for asecond. “Darcy,” he repeated experimentally, then nodded and went on. “I wannaapologize for the way I behaved last night. I was—I was a…”

“Ass, prick, jerk?” Darcyfilled in helpfully.

“Grump?” Elise finished,popping up out of nowhere.

Steve looked from one woman tothe other in disbelief. “I was going to say impatient and condescending.”

“Sorry, I thought we were beinghonest here,” Darcy teased at the same time that Elise asked, “Aren’t those thesame thing?

Steve glared at them fora minute, then gave up and chuckled. “All the girls aresticking together. Nice.”

Darcy grinned. “I’m sorry,too. I was angry because I couldn’t go to the party. Shouldn’t have taken itout on you.”

Steve shrugged. “It’s fine. Justbad circumstances. Guess we’re all to blame.”

“Not me,” Elise piped up. “I wasperfectly nice from the beginning.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Steve muttered with a roll of his eyes. “Now get outta here and let us eat in peace.”

She huffed and walked away. “SomeCaptain America.”

Darcy giggled. “She doesn’tbelieve me.”

“Good.”

They ate in companionable silence untilSteve’s curiosity got the better of him. “So, you live in the tower?”At Darcy’s nod, he wondered, “Since when?”

He had only been gone sixweeks and there were already new people at the tower who were suddenly best budswith Clint Barton and getting their cars fixed by Tony Stark? Exactly what andhow much had he missed while he was away?

“About a month, I think. WhenTony recruited Dr. Jane Foster, she brought me with her.”

Foster was a familiar name.Where had he heard that name before?

As if reading his thoughts,Darcy offered, “She’s Thor’s girlfriend. I’m her assistant slash caretaker slashguinea pig. I know everyone through her.”

“Aaah,” Steve murmured,intrigued. “So why did you leave the tower yesterday if you didn’t wanna missthe party?”

“I went to see a friend. She’sthe one who procured the leather boots and silver belt buckle for me. She lives,like, two hours away from the tower. Thought I’d be back in no time.” Darcyrolled her eyes. “Now I realize I shouldn’t have risked it. Stupidest decisionI ever made.”

Steve smiled. “Well, youcouldn’t have compromised with the kind of costume you chose to wear.”

“Exactly! I’m glad someoneunderstands. Thank you!” She took a big gulp of her coffee and slumped in herseat, satisfied. “To tell you the truth, yesterday wasn’t all that bad. Eliseand Dave loved my costume, and I got to sleep in Captain America’s bed. Prettygood deal, if you ask me.”

Steve flushed pink. “Well, um,it doesn’t really count since it wasn’t my bed. But you’re welcome to trythe one that’s in my apartment in Stark Tower.” He cleared his throat. “If youwant.”

Darcy burst out laughing. “Smooth,Captain, very smooth. I’ll keep that in mind.”

Suppressing a grin had neverbeen so hard. He ducked his head and tried not to be too proud of himself.

“So, what’s the story aboutyou and your birdies?”

Steve choked on his pancakes. “DearGod, I’m going to kill Clint!”

[chibisquirt]

Darcy Lewis Quickwrite, a/b/o, crossover, 4/?

Knowledge of the crossover series is neither needed nor expected.  This and previous chapters can be found on AO3 here.  This section is the first written from Keris’s point of view.  

If luck were measured in dice rolls, Keris reflected, then he had surely rolled a one at every possible opportunity.

Bad enough to be born talentless, void of the magical Gift which otherwise so thoroughly permeated his family tree.  To be asked at every turn to produce evidence of an ability he plainly lacked; to be viewed as a failure, as less-than, when he failed to produce that proof.  Over and over again, he had been a disappointment, although had he been born to any other family he would have been such a son as to make his lord proud.  

He had escaped that, finally, when he was chosen for this expedition:  a group to seek out, and close, all of those Gates through which travelers from other worlds had in the past--and would in the future--come.  

In this company, he had acquitted himself well, and had been held in high enough esteem among his new peers.  It was a heady draught to someone who had never drunk the like before, and the proof of it had only risen after Keris had played a crucial roll in a last-minute gambit to save the world.  

For a precious two months, he had been happy.

He reflected on that time now with a bitter twist of his mouth, because in all earnest, he should have known it couldn’t last.

(Mobile users, beware the cut!)

Keris was not the youngest in the expedition; that would be the young witch called Mouse, who for all her magical power was not yet ten years of age.  But he had still been a stripling when they left the Lormt, having only seventeen winters behind him at that time.  His eighteenth winter, though now passed, could hardly claim the name, having been spent in this warm southern land so mild that he hadn’t even reckoned the passing time until he counted it up on his fingers.

Near that too-mild midwinter of his eighteenth year, however, he had started developing a tenderness of the back and sides of his neck, and when he touched it, the skin had begun to feel strangely smooth.  Before sprint hit, he had begun to show the boil-like growths of Sitemarks.

Keris’s father was an Alpha.  So, too, were his mother and his sister--although female Alphas were usually rare.  In all of Keris’s well-documented family tree, in fact, there was only one Omega: the adept Hilarion, who had married Keris’ aunt Kaththea.  No one, from his family to the people of the Green Valley to the expedition in whose ranks he now rode, had expected Keris to be an Omega.  He had been runt enough as a Beta!

And, to put the final touches on a masterpiece of misfortune:  he was more than a year’s travel distant from home, but to judge from the shiny purple skin of his Sitemarks, he had less than two months before his first Heat was upon him.

The members of his expedition were a motley collection, but one thing was true of all of them: they were all Betas, except for Destree, whose Heats were blighted by the goddess Gunnora--and, as it was now known, for Keris.  This was deliberate:  with an unknown distance before them, a Heat or the rarer Rut would have been a risk too great to be borne.  But it meant that Keris was effectively stranded, thousands of miles from home and surrounded by neither an Alpha to bond him nor an Omega to comfort him, to guide him as his body changed.

The one comfort available to him was this:  their force had reached the furthest extent of their journey, and begun the long retreat back towards Lormt, towards the Citadel, towards home.  And, too, their meandering path meant that, although the trip outward had taken some sixteen months, the return journey would be at most half of that--potentially less.  The rules regarding those in Keris’s station were clear; even now, having received word of this development, Keris’s parents would be arranging a position for him, undignified though he found it; and within a year, he would be most certainly be ensconced comfortably--or as comfortably as he could hope for, at least--in the household of some Alpha lord.  

But he had to make it home, first, and unaccompanied Heats were said to be trials of the highest order.  Keris, with no guide and no mate, had no choice but to rub feverishly at the burning knots in his neck, and worry endlessly at the worrisome drips which then, inevitably, turned out to be mere sweat.

They raced northward, but he knew before it happened that they would never make it back in time, and indeed they did not.  

He woke that morning comfortable.  His first inkling of the problem came when he surveyed their camp and realized that he was the only one; even the horses were stamping, their breaths streaming in the early-morning chill.  It was a spring day, and to judge from the past week it would be hot later; Keris had simply assumed that the warmth was natural.

Natural, perhaps, but not shared, and his heart sank as he climbed to his feet and felt the tell-tale dampness around his smallclothes.  He hoped, grimly, that it was simply more sweat, but he knew that it was not, and the speed with which Krispin stepped back from him as he approached their fire told Keris that his scent must have ripened, sharpening abruptly over the course of the night.

The lady Eleeri was already awake, sipping a concoction brewed from local flora; the giant Gruck, who had been trapped in their world by the closing of a Gate, was beside her, stirring slowly at a bowl of porridge with a utensil from his belt--the only kind suited to his giant hand.  On the other side of Gruck sat the lady Liara and the witch-girl Mouse.

Liara had barely said a word to Keris since the Sitemarks appeared, one more blow of fortune from which he shied rather than consider it too deeply.  Mouse, however, looked up and addressed both him and the issue with her customary pragmatism.  “You will have to leave camp,” she said bluntly.

“I am aware.”  Keris found he could not quite meet her eyes, nor anyone else’s, as he accepted a mug into which Eleeri had just ladled hot water.  He set it down on a rock and himself beside it, but then edged away; the steam was too hot on his already clammy skin.

He considered the land through which they had passed some four months previously; he had always been quick with maps, and their path in this region had been straightforward enough.  

“There is a cave,” he began.  They had sheltered their entire group, including the horses and other four-legged companions, in that cave, which was well-ventilated and had a fresh spring of water.  They had found it on the way south, a refuge during a truly hellish descent which, thankfully, was now some distance out of their way.  

It would serve, provided his scent did not attract any predator he was too mindless to defeat.

“Will you take a companion?” Eleeri asked this, her tone carefully neutral.  Like Keris, she did not turn her gaze on Liara after she spoke, instead keeping her face turned carefully in his direction.  

Keris smiled, the bitter unfairness of it rising to swamp him once again.  “We are precious short on Alphas here, Lady.”  He bit out the honorific, unwilling, even in his frustration, to be rude to one so worthy of respect.

Eleeri’s expression was wry, but sympathetic.  “I referred not to a mate,” she said gently, “but to a companion--there are many in camp who would be honored to serve in the Third Role for you.”

Keris imagined briefly asking Krispin, who had stepped away so instinctively, to accompany him, and his gorge rose.  “Many,” he repeated flatly.  “Not yourself; not your husband.  The Falconers are mated; Destree is an Omega, though she suffers not from the--”

He broke off sharply.  Liara had risen abruptly to her feet, departing their circle without a word.  He watched the straight line of her spine retreat, and tried to quell the small voice railing inside him against the loss.

“No,” he concluded, “I think you are wrong.  I will not find ‘many’ in the camp to accompany me.  I will go alone.”

He tested the side of the metal cup; the rim, at least, was not so hot that he could not drink his flower-water.  He would have to take a pack, and they would need to set a rendezvous point...

A stack of large flower petals, each larger than Keris’s hand laid flat and all the colors of the sky at sunset, inserted themselves into his line of sight.  Blinking, Keris looked up--and up--into the friendly, inhuman face of the giant Gruck.  Gruck spoke very little aloud, but could project his thoughts into the minds of others, particularly those who were sensitive--which Keris was not.  Still, he heard clearly the giant’s intent to accompany him during his absence from their caravan. 

For the second time that morning, Keris felt his throat close.  This time, however, it was warmth which caught his breath, warmth at the kindness of one who wasn’t even human, and yet would still take this journey with him.  Keris hadn’t even left camp, yet already he was filled with a sense of shame and bitterness at the ordeal he was to face; but still Gruck, that silent, gentle guardsman, was prepared to stand at his side throughout.  

“Do you know what will happen?” Keris asked.  He stared up into those green eyes with a sense of bewilderment.  “Do you even know what’s going to--”

“I’ll make sure he knows.”  

Keris jerked back to see that Destree had risen, listening to their conversation from directly behind him.  

“But he understands on the most basic level.”  And then, when Keris opened his mouth to object, she added, “He understands that you will be vulnerable, and he understands that you are his friend.  Indeed, I would say that you are his favorite friend, of all those gathered here.”  She swung her head in a half-circle to indicate their camp, and then gestured at the flower petals still held in front of Keris’ chest.  “Eat your breakfast,” she advised.  “You are going to need it.”

The cave was but half a day of hard riding from their path, but Keris was not going on a horse.  For one thing, no horse ever born would manage to bear Gruck’s weight; for another, the cave was up so steep an incline that they and the horse would almost perforce be separated.  And so, instead, they crossed the distance on foot, with Gruck managing Keris’ pack.

No one had told him how long he would have before the true fever-mindlessness of the Heat broke over him; it wasn’t something discussed in polite company.  He made the best pace he could, and trusted that Gruck would carry him if he lost control before they had scaled the cliff.

Still, he remained reasonably self-controlled by the time they started that final climb.  There was a jungle at the top of the cliff, some three hours of rough, hairpin trail between him and it; Gruck would hunt there, and moreso scavenge there, as he was far more inclined towards the eating of plants than creatures.  The cave would have water, and shelter; there was a blanket, soap, and spare clothes in his pack, along with a strange rod-like device shoved in wordlessly by a blushing Destree.  

It would be enough.  All he had to do was reach the cave.  

He was soon sweating heavily, though.  Twice his hands slipped in their own slickness as he went to grab the divots in the rock face which served as handholds, and within minutes Gruck was half-carrying him up the switch-backing trail.  

Much to his own mortification, Keris could smell himself.  He smelled burned, like scorched oats, and almost sulfurous to his own nose, although Gruck waved off his babbled apologies.  There was also another, sweeter smell, underlying the first one.  Keris found it too sweet, and his cheeks burned with shame at the thought of it.  

He couldn’t seem to stop sniffing for it, though.  He would catch a whiff of it--too sweet, like powder old women wore in the summer--and then wrinkle his nose, but the knowledge of it would itch like a mosquito bite and soon he would sniff again.  

It was in this manner that he became aware of the third scent.

If his sent was sulfur and powder, the third scent was anything but.  it was leather and fresh, clean grass; it was a cool stream and light summer wine--a red from the mountain slopes north of Karsten.  And it was--

It was--

Keris moaned aloud, finally identifying the scent he hadn’t smelled in nearly two years, and certainly never like this.  

There was an Alpha in the cave.  His luck, ever bad, had just showed itself again.  

He made to struggle in Gruck’s hold--to his fevered mind, the steep fall down the cliff was a perfectly viable option for escape--but Gruck’s hold was true, and no more than a minute after Keris had scented the Alpha, they were passing the lip of the cave.

The Alpha was a woman--Keris knew himself truly enough to acknowledge the brief rush of gratitude, although it did little to change his fate--and strong of feature.  Keris thought that she would have been lovely even had he been properly minded to tell, but of course he was not.  He would have thought the lady Theela quite lovely in that moment, and while the lady Theela was brilliant in mind, in her body she was, quite bluntly, a horse.  Still, her form was as curvaceous as that of any of the great beauties of Kars, and her skin pale and flawless.

She did not seem to struggle for words the Keris did, either; rather, she raised her hand and waggled her fingers in obvious greeting.  She pasted on a wide smile and called out with only the slightest of quavering, “Hiiii!”

[ladyknightskye]

The 13 Ghosts of Darcy Lewis (8)

Summary: Halloween is one of Darcy’s favorite holidays, but the spooky fun is about to be hijacked. Now, Darcy must traverse a nightmare vision of the Avengers Compound and collect the 13 ghosts of the Avengers before midnight or else the spell will never be broken. However, she’s going to have some mighty monsters to fight - the Avengers themselves.

Author’s Notes: Ooo, look who’s starting to get plotty!

Chapter 8: Dr. Serizawa Was Right (Into the Woods)

Characters: Darcy Lewis, Werewolf!Bucky Barnes, Vampire!Steve Rogers, Enchantress

Relationships: mentioned WinterShield/Stucky, implied Enchantress/?

Warnings: Strong language

          The trees were eerie in the moonlight as Darcy raced past them. She tried not to be too loud, but she was a lover not a fighter, so her breaths were wheezing gasps. She was tempted to go off the path, but she was afraid that she would hurt herself, and right now, she needed to put as much distance between herself and Steve’s house as she could. She really couldn’t deal with the shit show that had just started up there. Her feet pounded the ground as she frantically followed the jogging path back towards the main compound.

          Steve’s house was about a mile or so away from the main compound, across the forest and rolling meadows that were used for training. Like Maria Hill, he was high enough in the food chain that he got his own place on premises. Everyone else had rooms in the housing wing of the main compound, but as their leader he was housed elsewhere. However, like Hill and Fury, he had a housemate in one James Buchanan Barnes. Bucky also lived in the basement, but as with Fury, Darcy was pretty sure the basement bed wasn’t used much. It wasn’t so much an open secret as a whispered rumor though – she was really the only one who suspected anything, and that was mostly because she had visited them a time or two where it was just the three of them. They’d been very physical with one another, more than she thought even friends from the forties would be. Bucky had even taken to giving Steve kisses on the cheek when it was just the three of them too.

          She slowed down, realizing that she couldn’t keep up the pace. She wasn’t a complete couch potato – all residents of the compound were required to have some physical training as part of the standard operating procedures – but she wasn’t a runner. Darcy had discovered a love of fencing, and Bucky had been only a little reluctant to start showing her how to properly fight with a knife. She even had a plastic prop knife that she used the same way other people used fidget spinners. It generally tended to freak out guests when they dropped by Jane’s lab unannounced. Most days she was sitting at a computer or behind Jane flipped her little faux Bowie in increasingly complicated acrobatic patterns.

          Darcy plopped down on the roots of a tall oak tree, stretching her tired legs out and hoping that her breathing would ease in a few minutes. She needed to get back to Hill’s house and to Pepper, but first, she needed to sit and process the last hour or so. She figured that the two, uh, people, back at the house would be occupied with each other for a little while, so she was probably okay on that front. She giggled a little hysterically, thinking back.

          The shattering of Steve’s glass door had heralded the arrival of a creature that Darcy had only seen in horror movies and smutty paranormal romance novels. It stood somewhere in the neighborhood of seven feet tall, was covered in dark brown fur, and had a bizarrely truncated muzzle. Its eyes had been a piercing gray, and its ears had stood perched on the top of its head like an alert German Shepherd. It wore only black pants, but these were stretched out over thick legs that were all muscle. It was growling, a deep, hellish sound that had barely registered when she first realized who it had to be. The metal left arm – complete with a clawed hand – left little mystery. “Bucky?” she whispered.

          One ear swiveled toward her, but the other stayed flat on his head. His dog-like lips had pulled back from his teeth. “God dammit Steve!” he growled, his voice a basso rumble.

          Steve turned from her, but Darcy could still see his profile. His lips had also pulled back from his teeth, and somehow Steve’s long canines were far more intimidating that Bucky’s. His eyes were blood red, and Steve’s whole face was a rictus of absolute rage. “Fuck off, Bucky.”

          Bucky barked at him, honest to God barked. But it wasn’t the yippy bark of her mother’s Schnauzer. Oh no, instead, it was the barrel-chested bark of Cerberus guarding the gates of Erebus. “You’re scaring her! She won’t stay if you scare her!”

          Steve snapped his teeth at Bucky. “I said fuck off! I’ve got this.”

          Bucky barked again, and Steve took a menacing step forward. For a moment, Darcy tried to decide if she could head off the testosterone driven fight that was about to happen, but the sage voice of Mr. Ken Watanabe filled her head. Let them fight.

          Yep, nope, not getting between Godzilla and King Kong. Not happening.

          Instead, as soon as the two launched themselves at each other, she booked it out the front door. There’d been an anguished howl mingled with a roar when she’d hit the forest, but she refused to look back. Now, here she was, sitting in the dark by herself wondering if maybe she shouldn’t have stuck around. Bucky and Steve had looked like they were going to honest to God kill each other.

          “You did the right thing,” came that hated, sugar and ice voice of the Enchantress. “I . . .  underestimated their resentment of one another.”

          Darcy turned to the woman with a sneer. “Yeah, what was your first clue?”

          The Enchantress sighed. “They both have their ghosts that need to be laid to rest, Darcy. They love each other, but they are also poisoning one another.”

          She was about to make another snide remark, but the honest sadness in the Enchantress’s voice struck her dumb for a moment. She just stared, drinking in the sight of the beauty of this woman in all of its dangerous glory. “Why do you sound like you care?”

          “You may not believe me,” the older woman replied softly, “but I do care about you and the Avengers. You are our best hope, but these ghosts will destroy them before the true war has even begun. Steve and Bucky . . . Tony . . . Wanda . . . Nick . . . Their powers and skills and suits are what will defend all of the universe from evil, but they are ridden by ghosts that either they can’t or won’t let go of.”

          “So this isn’t just about you being a bitch,” Darcy replied, “This is about helping the Avengers too.”

          The Enchantress laughed. “I really should be offended, but you are not wrong. Too long without my anchors has left me cruel.”

          “Anchors?”

          The Enchantress only smiled. “Win the challenge and find out.” She winked out of existence.  Darcy sat for a few minutes more, chewing over what the other woman had said in her mind before rising to her feet. She had places to be, ghosts to catch. Because now, now she knew that this was more than one woman’s ego. This was an opportunity to help her dearest friends and their allies. She’d taken only a few steps before the sound of angry growling rumbled through the air. She stopped, sighed, and threw up her hands.

          “For fuck’s sake! What now?!”