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Being around Darcy Lewis was frustrating. Steve liked her, really he did. Or at least, he thought he did. She seemed nice, on the rare occasions he interacted with her, but those were few and far between, because, well, it was just really hard to stop blushing around her. He had never been particularly adept with the ladies; it used to be that just a smile from one could make him blush. But something about Darcy made him blush just when he was in the same room as her. That was something just too humiliating to face if Stark ever found out about it. For weeks after Dr. Foster and she began working with the team regularly, he couldn't figure out what turned him into such a simpering mass whenever she was around.
She looked like a girl out of time.
It finally hit him one day in June, during an uncharacteristically warm early afternoon. Dr. Foster had sent her on some errand to an obscure store deep in Harlem to find a part that was not in production any more. Apparently, though, she knew the gentleman who owned the shop, and he still had a handful he was willing to part with for a decent price (not that it much mattered with S.H.I.E.L.D. and Tony Stark footing the bill, but old habits die hard and the pretty doctor had too good a head on her shoulders to just throw money around). Darcy had stumbled in looking parched from the summer heat, carefully dumping the packages onto the table, and she leaned against a chair to take deep cooling breaths. There was nothing special about the way she was dressed, just a button-up and jean shorts, with her hair tied up in a messy bun. She wasn't even holding herself in a particularly classy or alluring way, moist skin making some loose girls stick to her neck while a single bead of sweat dripped down to a place he really shouldn't have been looking. But something about the whole package made him think of some young girls from his time that tried to dress like pin-up pictures, and he was so embarrassed he had to excuse himself (after, of course, offering the poor lady a glass of water).
It was strange. So many women he had known tried so hard to achieve that look- perfectly coiffing their hair, carefully examining their wardrobe, striking poses just so. Darcy, though? She just sort of managed it with careless messy hair and a blouse that might have had a stain on it. Her body was built like a caricature, with real curves and soft lines you just didn't see on the harsh women of the modern world. She didn't have to work at the pose against the chair; she just had some natural Betty Boop silliness that came about. She reminded him of Ava Gardner, only softer and a little more… was real the right term? Steve didn't know anymore. Things were just so different now, and there was something so disarmingly comforting about looking at Darcy Lewis.
After a while, he found himself doing it more often. He would find his way into the labs to ask Tony and Bruce questions about technology he really didn't need the answers to, but he wasn't exactly sure why. They both caught on pretty fast (though what they were catching onto, he had no idea) and started coming up with more reasons for him to be there, just so he didn't look quite so helpless. They thought he had a crush on her, not that he did. At least, he didn't think he did… He didn't know her, not like he knew other girls he'd had crushes on. Darcy was just pretty was all and classic looking, and it made her comfortable to look at.
On days when she had to dress more professionally, perhaps because Commander Fury or one of his higher-ranking personnel were coming to check in, she looked even more 'retro,' and it made his heart stop. She looked like a secretary for one of his commanding officers with a modern twist, neat pencil-skirts or slacks with a pressed blouse and blazer. Her curls were never allowed to fly out and wild on these days, always pulled back neatly and professionally. She even wore heels when they came around, which was relatively unheard of otherwise. These were also the only days she wore lipstick, bright cherry red and smoothly painted across her full lips. It made his mouth dry and his whole body warm, but by the end of the day, his heart would ache. He would go to bed that night comparing it to something Peggy would have worn, but where she would have been comfortable, Darcy always seemed a bit doggy[1]. Steve wondered if they would have liked each other, if they both liked guns and hated chaos, since they both made his heart do a funny thing. Maybe there were other similarities there.
With all the time spent there, he started to notice more things about her, too. Like, when she couldn't quite make out Dr. Foster's notes, she furrowed her brow and parted her lips. She always fiddled with her coffee before she drank it, pouring in sugar and cream and sometimes even flavoring, but then she would have to drink a few more cups to make up for how diluted it was. She always had her phone out, playing with it, and the more nervous or upset or flustered she was, the more her fingers moved across its edges like some sort of modern safety blanket. She wore knit hats whenever it was cold, and she always had gum in her purse. Usually her body was well covered with a soft modern sweatshirt, but on the occasions when her chest was more on display and some creep was looking, she always blushed brightly but never said anything about it. She daydreamed a lot, too, staring into space with eyes unfocussed and her head at a tilt until Jane got her back on track. And she typed so fast it was almost alarming.
Surprisingly, Bruce was the first one to bring her up. He asked one day when they were alone in the lab; he was working on something under the microscope after Steve felt bad for always getting in the scientist's way and got the man some dinner. It was casual, careless even, and the query took Steve by surprise.
"Have you talked to her?"
"What?"
"Darcy, have you talked to her? She hasn't noticed you come down here to stare at her, but she's just about the only one. You know, some women may find that a bit off-putting. You should try actually talking to her."
His cheeks colored, "I-I don't come down here to stare at her." Bruce chuckled at that.
"Look, it's obvious you mean well. You're a good kid." Steve wondered how much he had spoken about this with Tony- usually Stark was the only one that called him a kid- but had no answer. Sensing his uncertainty, Banner continued, "She's a sweet kid, too. We grab lunch every so often and talk, and Tony's really quite fond of her." Well that was news- he wasn't aware she spoke to them, let alone that they were friends.
"Oh, um… really?"
"Yeah, though I'll be honest- Tony really only started talking to her when he found out you had… taken a shining to her, I believe is how you would have put it."
He laughed at that, appreciating the effort, "Yeah, something like that… Thanks, by the way, for keeping Tony quiet about this whole thing. I know you and Pepper had something to do with that."
"Don't mention it. Actually, he's been surprisingly unlike himself about this, to be honest. It was his idea to find out more about her before you started coming around as much."
"You guys really did that for me?" Bruce shot him a warm, friendly smile.
"What are friends for?
"And she's not rationed? Going steady, I mean." The explanation was necessary at the confused look.
"No," he laughed, "she's been on a couple of dates recently, but she's not seeing anyone. You should talk to her, trust me. Now get some sleep- you've spent far too many hours in here today, considering you're not actually a scientist." Steve agreed and said his goodbyes, making his way to the door.
"And Steve," he paused to turn back for a moment, "for what it's worth, we both thing she'd be good for you. Pepper does too."
When Steve finally worked up the nerve to talk to her, it wasn't for any extraordinary reason. In fact, it wasn't even his idea. It had been a couple days since his talk with Bruce, which Stark clearly knew about since he kept shooting him furtive glances and jerking his head in Darcy and Dr. Foster's general direction. Luckily, the lab was quiet that day- only the five of them. He made no secret of the fact that he thought Steve was taking too long, and though he did not openly second the notion, Bruce obviously agreed given the fact he wasn't reigning in the man's meddling. When he finally did seem alarmed by the silly savant's involvement, it was too late, and Stark had already decided to take a more proactive role in the situation.
"Yo, Lewis- c'mere." Darcy looked up from the notes she was just finishing typing out and sighed, clearly used to the man's shenanigans. Steve wondered, not for the first time since finding out, how he never before noticed the dynamic between his teammates and this girl.
"Yes, master, how ever may I serve you?" Her voice was sharp and sarcastic as she wandered over, flicking some hair behind her shoulder. It did not escape his notice that she was not fiddling with her phone, simply clutching it loosely in one hand, the other coming to rest on her hip.
"I like that. You shall refer to me thusly from now on." She snorted inelegantly, and the noise took him by surprise.
"You wish. So what did you need?"
"I'm hungry. Make food happen."
"Um, ok. Am I supposed to cook or pick something up or…?" She let the question hang, lifting her hand from her person and using it to gesture carelessly.
"Pick something up. In fact, I'm feeling nice today, so get some for everyone. Extra too, in case somebody decides to pull late hours. I'm feeling Shuwarma."
She made a face, "Ew, no. Thai?"
"Ooh, yeah- I could go for some Pad Thai. Alright, go get lots of Thai for everyone from that place down the street. Hop to it, chop chop." Tony gave two sharp claps, earning him a withering look.
"Ok, and I'm carrying all this how?"
"Ah, right…" he pretended to think for a moment and, to his defense, did a surprisingly good job of acting like this wasn't a total and complete set-up, "take Steve with you." He jerked his thumb over his shoulder at the sweet faced soldier, causing them to make sudden eye contact. He was struck by how blue her eyes were. Her face was a little different than he had thought too, with a couple beauty marks peppering the porcelain white and her chin longer and more pronounced that it seemed from afar. It was at this point Steve realized that he may have crossed into a creepy level while watching this girl.
Tony continued prattling on, "Darcy, you've met Steve, right? Steve, you know Darcy."
She nodded casually, "Yeah, we've met a few times. And isn't he in here helping you, like, every freakin' day?"
"Yes, Brucey and I have abducted him from very important meat-head activities at the gym. I am certain he is sorely missed. So where's my food?" That earned him an easy eye-roll.
"Alright Steve, if you're up for this death-defying excursion, I'll call in ahead on the way. But I should warn you," she met his eyes again, this time with mock seriousness, and Steve was pretty sure he was blushing harder than he ever had in his life, "this mission isn't for the faint of heart, like those namby-pamby S.H.I.E.L.D. assignments." He could only nod dumbly, but that seemed to be enough of a response for her, as she grabbed his harm and dragged him from the room. The last thing Steve saw was Bruce's wide, apologetic eyes.
Steve learned a lot of things about her that day, things he didn't expect. She didn't know he was Captain America for starters- well, to be rather clear, no one had before confirmed that he was Captain America. She already knew Thor, Banner, and Stark personally, and she had seen Natasha and Clint around, so when Steve had wandered into the lab all chummy with the science bros, she made an educated guess. However, strictly speaking, express knowledge of the Avengers was above her pay grade. But she was clever, hyper-aware even, though she hid it well. She might zone out on her phone, but whenever she wasn't playing angry birds, she could tell you what idiot driver was about to blow a light or if someone was staring at you with hardly a glance around. She'd almost make a good spy if she didn't talk so much.
And Darcy did talk a lot. She was silly, a bit childish in little ways, and shameless in her commentary. It was such a stark contrast to Peggy, the woman he had been constantly comparing her to (perhaps unfairly) that it was jarring, but he found it did not bother him. These were different times after all, where a woman wasn't questioned in the same way. The country wasn't struggling from the war; she was free to be childish- like all that sugar she put in her coffee. Interestingly, he found that she was childish but not immature. She knew things, she had class, she could conduct herself… she was just rough around the edges. Where Peggy had been smooth, black coffee, Darcy was filled with sugar and spice, like the old rhyme said.
They talked almost nonstop while walking to the restaurant, while waiting for their order, and even on the way back, arms laden with food (he would allow her to carry no more than one bag, two when he realized he would have trouble balancing them all). It took Steve a while to ease up enough to really talk, but not as long as he thought it would. He hadn't noticed, but being around her essentially nonstop the past few weeks, even if there was no actual interaction, had made him less jumpy in her presence. He found her friendly and breezy, careless about what she would tell him. It was refreshing after spending so much time around secretive G-men[2] and eccentric billionaires. When they got back to the lab, they found that they still had so much more to talk about. Steve didn't even mind the smug look on Tony's face or the slightly patronizing smile on Bruce's.
After that day, they were practically inseparable. They talked constantly, accompanied each other on errands, and even did nothing together. He was learning so much more about what she was like, how different she was from any other woman he had ever met. Natasha he almost didn't think of as a woman, seeming so stolid and secretive and tough. The rest were all from the 40s, and none were really like Darcy. She swore like a sailor, punctuating particularly important points with violent cusses and gestures. She made pop culture references every ten seconds, and even though she acted exasperated when he didn't get them, she wasted no time in explaining and seemed even excited to do so. She was such a product of her time, always fiddling with gadgets and lusting over the next big thing. She dressed in men's clothes when she was lounging or felt sick, particularly her ex-boyfriends' (which bothered him more than it should), and read two or three books a week. She always cried at Disney movies but loved them regardless, and really, she teared up over just about anything, which didn't make it any less awful when she did. Once, he found her crying, and after much coaxing, he found out it was because she overheard some guy in another department saying that she should play to her strengths and stick to stripping, whatever kept her from distracting the competent workers surrounding her. That guy found himself transferred to the worst assignment S.H.I.E.L.D. had to offer- sometimes being Captain America had its perks. Later he would regret not taking a more physical stand on the issue when she was wondering whatever happened to the agent and admitted he was probably just mad because she tased him when he tried to put the moves on her in a supply closet. Darcy was like that; always trying to downplay things and take care of herself. She wasn't the classic damsel in distress, she was buxom and bright and full of gumption. Steve marveled at how it was amazing how much women had changed and continued to evolve after the war.
But the more things changed, the more things stayed the same. Darcy was all sass and spark with him, but whenever some guy came up to her on the street, there were the same blushes and batted eyes he saw on every gal. It was even more pronounced when he would move closer in beside her and watch the guy scamper off. She liked to giggle and loved to gossip, and she absolutely beamed whenever he held open a door. Just as men posture to assert dominance, she postured with women to assert their own hierarchy, and whenever there was a bug, it was always Steve's job to protect her and slay the fiendish insect foe. She loved old pop songs, particularly from the fifties, and she kept clippings of her favorite vintage threads she couldn't afford. In a weird way, she was kind of like an alternate Peggy's kid sister, with all her bravado and suavity, and an added youthful exuberance and ingenuity.
She was a girl out of time, made up of different decades. She was an oxymoron of sameness and difference. Her make-up had to be done a certain way, or she felt weird and under-dressed when going out, even if she was only planning to wear sweatpants and flip-flops. She would often break out into random song and dance, if only to see him blush, but swore she hated her voice, and she hated getting dirty but loved getting soaked in the rain. She loved the smell of coconut but hated the taste of it, loved spontaneity but hated chaos.
Steve was pretty sure they spent so much time together that he knew everything there was to know about Darcy. He had seen all her clothes at least twice, and he knew all her favorite movies. He knew when Tony, Jane, and Bruce would be ok with his distracting her and when it was best to let her work uninterrupted. It seemed ridiculous in hindsight, but the change in how he spent his days wasn't even all that noticeable to him until Coulson started asking them where the other was. It became much more obvious how much time they were spending together when bits of his slang found their way into her daily vernacular. Jane would give her crazy looks whenever she said things like "I'm gonna take a powder,"[3] or asked "What's buzzin', cousin?"[4] or said things were 'swell' or 'killer-diller.'[5] But it made Steve feel warm and fuzzy whenever he heard them, because he knew she was listening to him as much as he listened to her. Well, maybe not, because he was pretty sure he had memorized just about every word she had ever said, but he was certain she listened.
There were other tells that Darcy was getting to know him, too. She could tell when he was thinking about Peggy and Bucky and everyone from his past, and she wait until his was completely distracted to suddenly drop what she was doing and tackle him in a fierce hug that always seemed to make him feel better. Then she would just sit and hold his hand, rubbing tiny circles on the back until he felt up to just smiling and asked if she wanted coffee. She remembered how he liked his coffee and always got him some. Once he mentioned in passing that his mother used to make plum tart for when he came home from the first day of school every year. Weeks later, when he returned from a mission, there were a good dozen different types of homemade plum pastries waiting for him (since it was a side comment, she didn't know what style of tart it was, so she made an array to ensure he found the one that made him feel like he'd come home). She would often show up with sudden gifts, records and books that she remembered him saying he liked and just had to get when she saw them and thought of him.
Darcy… she just got him, and Steve got her. It was simple and happy, and he almost couldn't remember a time when she wasn't in his life, when he was too overwhelmed by her physicality to talk to her.
"You know, I'm glad Tony's such a meddling little shit." She said one day, sipping on a chocolate egg-cream in this retro diner they often hid away in. It was comfortable to him, modeled more after the fifties but still reminding him enough of his own time. It almost physically hurt to see how perfect she would look there, perched on a seat with pretty lips around a malt straw. She was straight out of a pin-up, and he just wanted to reach out and stroke her hair or touch her hand, anything to prove that she was real and there and that something that could so seamlessly bridge his past and his present existed, even if she wasn't his.
He looked back at her casually, at this point used to her wicked mouth, "What do you mean?" A single eyebrow arched.
"You really don't know? You have to- it was so obvious the way he orchestrated that whole lunch thing. Besides, he told me." Steve blushed and looked down, playing with his milkshake.
"Told you what?" She smirked back fiendishly, giving him a once over.
"That you were coming down into the lab to stare at me. He said you had a crush on me and didn't even know it and that Bruce agreed. I told him he was full of it and to leave you alone, that if I saw him being an ass to you I'd tell Pepper."
"God," He put a hand up to cover his face in embarrassment, "he told you all that?"
"Pretty much… to be fair, it was kinda cuz I flipped on him. He and Bruce were suddenly asking me all these weird questions about if I was seeing anyone and did I like Bing Crosby and was I settling into New York okay and how far do I go on a first date… you can guess which ones were Bruce and which were Tony. Anyway, I finally lost in on the more obnoxious of the two and threatened to taze him in the balls if he didn't tell me what was going on. A couple weeks later, he sent us on our Mussamon Curry mission." Steve was mortified and groaned into his hands, dragging them down his face to stare into her amused eyes. The blue twinkled like stars whenever she looked at him.
"Why didn't you say anything?"
A wry smirk played at her lips, "C'mon now, Cap. The more things change, the more they stay the same. I'm a lady after all- I don't make the first move on a date. Well, ok, that's a lie- but I kind of really like you, so I didn't want to scare you off by being the super-forward modern woman." He nodded slowly, an excited grin breaking across his features to accompany the blush.
"So… do these count as dates?" He asked, having a fry just to give himself something to do.
"That depends, were they good? 'Cause if not, we'll start from scratch- I can totally do better, put the ladies on display." She arched her back and pushed out her chest, and he realized that she kept her chest conservatively restrained at work but was much more liberal around him. He tore his eyes back up to hers, blushing at her expression.
"No no, it's great- you've never been a flat tire."
"Alright," she snorted, "that one's new to me. Care to translate?"
"A, uh, a bad date. I mean, I always have a swell time when I'm with you." He licked his lips and said very seriously, "The worst part of my day is when you leave." It was quiet for a moment as she just stared at him, eyes watering ever so slightly because she still cried at every little thing, and he held his breath as he wondered if maybe she was just joking and didn't really want to be with him. Steve's eyes were drawn down to her lips as she licked them slowly, running a tiny pink tongue against their redness as she stared him in the face.
"Steve," her voice was hoarse and barely more than a whisper, "I've been waiting three and a half months for you to kiss me. Now would be a really great time to do that." When he hesitated for just a split second, shock shooting through his system, she took the initiative and reached across the table, grabbing his collar to haul him forward and crash his lips against her own.
There was something so right about their first kiss having been initiated by her over old-fashioned malts in a throwback diner. Darcy wasn't a typical 21st century woman, and she was certainly no 1940s dame. She was a girl out of time, and her mouth was soft and hot against his. Her body was warm and felt perfect as he came around the table and slid into the booth beside her. He tucked her against him, and they stayed like that for almost half an hour, silently melded against each other in suspended time.