Work Text:
Darcy loves living in Brooklyn.
She's literally only a few blocks away from Prospect Park, which is gorgeous, and her commute into the city is not nearly as bad as some of her friends'. Working for a PR firm on Wall Street may not be the most fulfilling of jobs, but the location makes for a quick and painless subway ride.
Of course, there's always a first for that.
The 3 is down for the next few days because of maintenance or some crap and Darcy finds herself one of the last of the masses at the Franklin Ave stop piling on the 2 for the early morning work rush. She squeezes in just as the doors close and uses one hand to clutch her purse tightly against her body and the other to reach through a hand sized gap between people and grab at the vertical handrail. She winds up pressed against an older woman in a skirt-suit who turns her head and gives her a dirty look. Darcy shrugs her shoulders as much as she can. It's not like she can help that she can't move right now.
Three stops later finds her with a little bit of breathing room. She's now pinned against the side of the seat right next to the door but is no longer awkwardly rubbing up on anybody. With one hand still on the rail, she tries to covertly reach for her phone (cunningly hidden in her bra) and tugs it out as quickly as possible. A quick glance around reveals that nobody has seen her digging through her cleavage, and she starts playing a game to pass the time. She doesn't notice when her hand starts to slip down until it's touching warm skin. She jumps a little and her hand flies back up the rail while her eyes follow the arm back to it's owner to apologize and-
Oh.
Shit.
The owner of said hand is at least 6'3” and if his shoulder-to-waist ratio is anything to go by, he is pretty much the pinnacle of human perfection. She feels her cheeks heating up.
“Uh, sorry....About my hand, I mean.”
He smiles and it's like the goddamned sun just came out, seriously?!
“It's not a problem.”
He looks back down to finish doing something on his phone so she decides to do the same after one last peek at him. The train jerks suddenly and it's all Darcy can do to keep from flying into the end of the car as it brakes and comes to a stop at Hoyt St. She presses herself back as much as possible as other passengers get out and many more come in. Once they're finished loading, she's pressed back into the car more and she reaches back up to the rail at the same time and spot as- oh, wow, again? Way to go, Darcy.
He looks a little sheepish and blushes.
“My bad, this time.”
She giggles a little and is very proud of herself when it doesn't come out as hysterical.
“Guess that makes us even.”
She tilts her head back to her phone, hoping to hide the splotchy redness she can feel creeping along her neck and cheeks. She pretends to be extremely engrossed in what she's doing because she can feel the guy's eyes on her still and she really doesn't want to make herself look like a jackass. Of course, this is a point rendered moot when the train shudders to a stop at Borough Hall and some jerk shoves her on his way out. Having quickly taken her hand off the rail to shoot a text off to her brother, she was off balance and flew face-first into a firm chest. Large arms wrapped around her as if on reflex, and she looked up to see who her savior was, and why was she not surprised, again?
“We've got to stop meeting like this,” he says with an easy grin.
“Oh gosh, I'm so sorry. Some guy pushed me and-”
“Hey, it's not a problem. The morning commute is brutal. I'm just glad I could help.”
She ducks her head a little. “Well, thanks. That would have been a sucky fall. I'm Darcy, by the way.”
“Steve.”
The train starts again and Darcy goes to grab the handrail. The motion seems to remind both her and Steve that his arms are still wrapped around her shoulders. He waits for her to get a good grip before slowly disengaging his arms and reaching one up overhead to one of the higher rails. The influx of passengers meant that she was still pressed to his chest though, and she was thinking really inappropriate thoughts as a result. Thankfully, he seemed a little flustered too. They stood for a little bit, both trying not to look at the other, and Darcy began fidgeting before finally giving in to her hatred of awkward silence.
“So,” she started, hoping to defuse any awkwardness, “Steve. You live in Brooklyn?”
He nodded. “Off the Church Ave stop. Though I grew up in Bed-Stuy. You?”
“Yeah, I live near the Franklin stop with a friend. I work in FiDi but didn't really wanna live in Manhattan, so... here I am. I really fell in love with Prospect Park and the Botanic Garden and knew I wanted to live near there.”
“I know what you mean. I go walking there a lot, mostly around the lake. I like watching people there,” He momentarily looks mortified, “Not in a creepy way, I mean, but I draw. And I guess drawing the park and the people I see is relaxing.”
“No, that's awesome. I like taking photos there, in my spare time. I do that. Nature photography, I mean.”
He looked a little incredulous. “So you moved to New York City?"
She laughed. “No, it's just a hobby and the park is the closest thing to nature I think I'll get. I'm actually working at a PR firm right now. Election season is coming up so they hired on a bunch of us right out of college to do grunt work while the breadwinners do their job.”
“Sounds... exciting.” He sounded less than enthused.
“Hey, don't knock the job. It may not be my dream in life but I'm employed out of college so I'd say that's reason enough to be happy where I am. Besides, I'm hoping I can use it as a bit of a networking springboard. I majored in political science and international relations, and this job gives me the chance to work with some of the big politicians and lobbyists in the city.”
“Hey, I'm not making fun of you or anything. It's just that you don't really sound that excited about it.”
She frowned. “Well, everybody has to have realistic goals in life, you know? Just because I wanted to be a photographer when I grew up doesn't mean I could. Unfortunately, the way this society works is that you need money to do anything. Unless I somehow become the next Ansel Adams, I don't think Nature Photography is going to help me all that much in life.”
“I guess I get that. We all have to take jobs that pay the bills. But why not find a balance? Have you ever tried selling your photos to anybody? Or doing a gallery show or something?”
“Well, no, but they're not that great. Like I said, it's a hobby.”
“You'll never know unless you try.”
“You haven't even seen them!”
He blushed. “You could show them to me.” He dug in his pocket and pulled out a worn leather wallet. He slipped out a card and held it towards her. “Maybe over dinner tomorrow?”
The train came to a stop and the PA system announced that they were at the Wall Street stop. Darcy realized she must have been so engrossed in talking to Steve that she didn't notice the stop at Clark or the trip across the water. She looked up at him, surprised, before regaining her composure and smiling.
“I can do that.”
She took the card and reached up, pulling him down to her level so she could kiss his cheek, then turned around and joined the crowds attempting to leave the train all at once.
Yep, Darcy loves living in Brooklyn.