Chapter Text
Life after her disastrous not-really-a-date passed quickly for Darcy Lewis.
She hadn't heard from Doom since the incident—he’d been lying low with the press as well, it seemed—and she was perfectly content.
If she never saw Victor Von Doom again, it would be too soon.
And yet, a small, treacherous part of her couldn't help but yearn for the man behind the mask.The one who'd looked so broken when she turned her back on him.
Darcy huffed and crushed the feeling before it could fester. He deserved that and more.
(‘Most displeased with this arrangement’, as if she was a businessman haggling a price for something that was probably illegal anyway.)
"What's up?" Jane asked, noticing Darcy's sour expression.
"Nothing," the other girl sighed, fumbling with the zipper of her dress. "Do I really have to come to this thing? You-Know-Who's gonna be there."
"Um, yeah? I'm not spending the night alone with Tony and Bruce and a bunch of stuffed-shirt scientists who claimed I was a crackpot until recently. Be a bro, Darcy."
"You can't use my line against me, Jane, it's bad form."
"Fine. But they'll have free booze."
"Zip me up, Jay. Overpriced champagne is calling my name."
And that's how she ended up at Victor Von Doom's gala—the very one she had tried her damnedest to avoid—Bucky standing protectively beside her.
("Just in case," Tony had said, looking as serious as she'd never seen him.)
"We can always kill him," Bucky suggested innocently as they made their way up the red carpet and into the Latverian embassy. "Make it look like an accident."
"Dude, what is with you and Natasha?"
"It's a Russian thing," he shrugged, smirking down at her. "For someone who hates him so much, you sure are protective of Doom."
"Or! Or I just don't believe in killing people I don't like."
"You should. It's very you."
"Yup, I can already see the headlines. 'Avengers' PA Loses Her Shit and Attacks Latverian Embassy'."
"You could always join Steve and I," he waggled his brows, and Darcy punched him lightly.
“Keep it in your pants, soldier. We’re in pub—oh shit!” Bucky straightened when she ducked behind his back, and startling a newly recovered assassin probably wasn’t on her list of good ideas.
“It’s Doom,” Darcy whispered against his jacket, feeling him deflate as she grabbed two glasses of champagne from a passing waiter. Score. When she looked over Bucky’s shoulder, she could see Doom—clad in his green cloak and metal armor and mask—speaking to one of those nervous looking stuffed-shirts Jane was talking about.
“So lemme get this straight,” Bucky said, grabbing her arm and leading her to a secluded part of the hall. “You showed up at the date, yelled at him a little, stomped out without another word—“
“Well, when you put it that way—“
“—and now you’re avoiding him?”
“What do you mean?”
“Darcy, you tased the guy. You tased Victor von Doom.”
“Can you not talk so loud? We are literally in the lion’s den.”
“You basically told him you two were going on a date. And then you stood him up! ”
Darcy huffed, her cheeks coloring. “Stop making me sound badass. Everything you said makes me feel like an asshole.”
“You are an asshole,” Bucky said. “But Doom’s an even bigger one, so I guess you two might work out after all.”
“Thanks Bucky.”
“No problem. Oh, here comes Jane.”
“We need to leave,” Jane said as soon as she caught up to them, panting and red-faced.
“What? Why? Dude, are you okay?”
“Nope. No time. We need to leave.”
“Right now?”
“Right now,” the scientist grabbed Darcy’s arm and made to drag her away, but a firm grip on her shoulder stopped them both in their tracks.
“Ah, so this is where you had run to, Doctor Foster,” Darcy froze. “Doom was wondering why you excused yourself so soon.”
He was taller with the armor, she noticed dully as she turned. Though she much preferred him in that suit—
Nope, stop right there, Darcy Jay.
“Heeeey,” she greeted, fake-smile—usually reserved for awkward encounters with ex-boyfriends and their current girlfriends—plastered on her face.
“Miss Lewis,” his brown eyes watched her coldly, though she thought that was mostly because she couldn’t see any other part of his face.
Back to formalities then.
“Doom was rather hoping you would come.”
“Er…”
Thankfully, Bucky stepped in before she could fuck things up further.
“Doctor,” Bucky grinned and stuck his hand out. “It’s great to finally meet you. Darcy’s told me so much about you.”
Doom’s eyes narrowed as they fixed on Bucky, but he dutifully shook the assassin’s hand.
“And you are?”
“James Barnes. I’m Darcy’s—“
Oh no.
“—friend.”
Oh thank god.
“Friend?” If Darcy didn't know any better, she'd think Doom's narrowed gaze and contrite tone were because he was jealous. His eyes flitted between the two, and Darcy couldn’t help but inch away from Bucky, much to the assassin’s apparent amusement.
“Actually, we were just about to—“
And then the world around them exploded.