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Of Alternative Offers

Summary:

Changes sucked. Darcy always thought that. Especially when her hand was forced. But once that happened and new direction was chosen she tended stick to it. Admittedly sometimes from pure spite. So something pretty monumental had to happen to have her make 180 degrees turn.

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Thank you for the help making this fic readable and weeding out my mistakes, tkyukon

It is greatly appreciated xx

 



Of Alternative Offers

 

 

One of the best ways to start your day was by visiting a hairdresser. Wash, trim, a blow-dry. Oh, yes.  Darcy felt fresh. The lack of sleep from the previous night wasn't too bothersome when she didn't have to rush anywhere. Today was going to be a good day. It was decided. Today she finally stopped at that Italian deli and got a selection of cured meats and cheeses. The kind one usually got with the intention to impress guests. She picked a bottle of wine that wasn't the second cheapest and chatted with the elderly deli owner.

Mrs. Lewis, her mother, had confidently lectured Darcy many times about how money wasn't everything. It sure wasn't. Neither was love or hate. It was what you did with it. So, yeah. Money wasn't everything. But the ability to afford to live independently in one of the world's priciest cities came damn close.

 There was a time when she could tolerate standing in queue to use the bathroom after pulling crazy hours at work, but she no longer possessed that tolerance level. For some, an apartment was an unnecessary luxury, an opinion shared by her savings account. Still, Darcy already had anger management problems and didn't need someone fucking her off first thing in the morning.

A person could survive on a meagre income, and Darcy had done it for years. It was an experience, and lessons were learned from it, the first of which was how to save. Scrimping was a helpful habit. Living like you were broke while earning good money was a skill. Years ago, the idea of one day being debt-free was a distant dream, but then she tasered a god and got to work.

Darcy paused for a moment on the way out of the shop. The chaos of N.Y.C was nothing like where her life truly started - New Mexico… 'Was it really that long ago? It feels like yesterday.' Talk about a meeting that changed one's life. Her mother was still convinced that a demon had possessed her obedient daughter there and kept Darcy from falling in love with Geoff. Because what could turn a woman on more than a dude that went to church with her mother? Darcy shuddered at the thought of the guy. Thankfully, secret agency thugs, alien gods and Science! All did an excellent job at broadening her horizons and options.

Whenever Darcy felt bothered about her single status, the memory of Geoff reminded her that being single was far from the worst thing that could have happened to her. Not that Geoff was a lousy person…

'Fuck….' Why was she justifying that wanker's pathetic existence anyway? She didn't like him. Period. You didn't have to like everyone you met in life. You couldn't; it was impossible and realizing that has liberated her from the shame her mother had installed in her. She felt he was sketchy from the very first day she had laid her eyes on him, in church of all places, back when her mom was still ruling her life. You know the feeling when you meet someone, and your brain immediately goes, 'I bet he has bodies buried under the azaleas bushes.' The man seemed perfectly ordinary, and Mrs. Lewis loved him, but those azaleas looked extra lush, and Darcy had a well-developed 'stranger danger' radar. She wasn't attracted to men that acted overfamiliarly.

Having all that in mind, it really was a bit of a mystery why currently the likes of what's-his-face-in-red-tinfoil took her fancy. Yes, him. Tony Stark was a classic bad boy. Fast cars, big parties, outrageous reputation followed by numerous broken hearts. Her high school self would be appalled at even considering someone like that attractive.  Falling for a cliché. 'Gross.' Being attracted to that type of man was cruising for a bruising. It was nothing more than window shopping when it came to Stark. You admired the aesthetics, imagined taking him home, then checked the price and thought better of it. Because, you know, common sense prevails.

Thankfully, Jane consumed all her time until her swift departure.  Unfortunately, all good things had to come to an end. It was the end of an era for Darcy, and an exciting new chapter was open before her. All that life-affirming bollocks.

Getting the Hell out of Dodge would have been a better use of her time. Unfortunately, fear of real change got in the way of it. What an idiot. Being Dr. Foster's intern/assistant /P.A. had been her only real job. Transitioning into someone else's service looked like the natural, safe option.

They say that it's better never to meet your heroes in person. Or something along those lines. So true, though. So painfully true. She could tell you for a fact that you'd sleep better, not knowing that your idols cried in pain after the battle. That they struggled and bled, got scared and sometimes felt helpless, just like everyone else. Because they weren't allowed. They were fucking superheroes. Society had expectations that those sods had to live up to. It was the law. Everyone loved the perfect façade and rarely the people behind it.

On top of that, Tony Stark turned out to be a man who cared about what kind of world he would leave behind. 'The prick.  How fucking dare he?  Who the fuck does he think he is?' All Darcy's energy was focused on dealing with her new boss, Mr. Andrews and not killing anyone. Then he strolled into her life and flirted. It wasn't fair, and she had shit to do. She should have been allowed to slap him for that. It added to her stress.

 Tony Stark might have been fun to look at, but she has yet to meet a man she thought was worth sacrificing her integrity for. Responsibilities came first. Shitty job, shitty pay and Darcy couldn't even afford a fling there. Pathetic or what?

Anyway, Tony was pissed she fucked off without saying goodbye or that she overlooked the opportunity to cry into his manly shoulder.  Maybe he was offended enough to never call her again. Why didn't he show up in her life when things were going well? 'Honestly, such an inconsiderate prick.'

The second buzzword of the day was self-care. She'd been meaning to do some of that since deciding to move on from S.I. There was a lot of good press around about giving oneself some attention. All those people on the Internet couldn't be wrong. Maybe it would help her forget how much she regretted not punching Andrews right in his smarmy face.

Darcy's head was somewhere in the clouds when she reached her apartment building—musing about what transpired the previous night, her new job, the chance of building a life in the city since there was no reason to stay.

"Miss Lewis?" The pleasant voice caught her off guard. Again. Shit.

"Don't know anyone by that name." Words flew out of her mouth before she clocked who the woman was. "Oh, hey, Miss Potts. What… a surprise." Darcy should have let Stark die last night. Gotten a full night's sleep and avoided this.

The smile on the strawberry blonde didn't waver at the tone of voice. Confidence sure suited some people. "Moving is hard, but there's nothing that a little gift can't improve."

Straight in with a bribe. Darcy pushed back the irrational anxiety and eyed up the massive potted plant and expensive-looking shopping bags. This wasn't the day she had planned, but then again, moving was expensive. She deserved a little something for all those sleepless nights at the service of S.I. "I'm tempted to be difficult… but I know you've got ridiculously good taste. We have a dilemma." She let the statement hang for a moment before nodding. She could have turned the woman away, but did she want to risk pissing off the C.E.O. of Stark Industries? Darcy cringed internally at the memory of her own behavior.  

Darcy shrugged, scrapping together the last bits of manners that were left in her. "Follow me; we can discuss the pitfalls of my indecision over a glass of wine." She couldn't help but wonder what Stark said to have the woman show up at her doorstep. People like Potts didn't just waste a day off on an ex-employee.


Miss Lewis appeared more relaxed than she had been last evening, even if she was slightly annoyed at the unexpected visit, Pepper noted. Justifiably so. "This is cozy." A non-comital noise came in response. That was why she brought gifts -to smooth the initial impact of an unwelcome guest.

It has been an exceedingly long morning having in mind that it started at 5 am. The rest of the day didn't promise any improvement.

The apartment wasn't a dilapidated hole in the wall despite what Tony had insisted. An involuntary sigh escaped her. All these years and she was still getting headaches from him.

It was a small tidy place, warm and welcoming. Soft pastel shades. Flowers on the table. It was a home; you could tell that love and effort had been into making it one. Her ex was all but frothing at the mouth describing it last night, or this morning, depending on how you chose to look at it. Unfortunately, Pepper couldn't reach him after the conference last night, meaning that the royal pain in her neck somehow got the news straight out of the horse's mouth. What a fun chat that was. So fun, in fact, that Pepper was determined not to have another one like it anytime soon.

There was a moment to be nosy when her host disappeared into the bathroom after they stepped through the front door. She'd had a similar kitchen when she started working for Tony all those years ago when he had 2 P.A.s. Darcy's setup brought back memories of flat sharing. Ugh… 

"Thank you for waiting." The brunette was back, now wearing a flowing navy gown, hair still cascading down her back. The garment was a great shade, the perfect length and cut. It was opulently relaxed without being vulgar. To say that it was flattering was an understatement, Pepper approved. Miss Lewis nodded towards the second glass; they weren't done with the pleasantries yet. "Wine?"

"Please don't bother on my account-" The last thing she wanted was to be imposing.

"I’m not, it’s for me, but you’re welcome to join me.” Since the moment they stepped into the apartment, Miss Lewis had been breezing through her evening routine. Little reminders that the woman’s day wasn’t in any way centred around Virginia Potts or Stark industries, all very subtle and polite, but the message was clear. Pepper nodded. It was a delicate situation.

“Yes, thank you.” Darcy put two glasses of red wine and a plate of cured meats, cheese and marinated olives on the small table; the selection artfully presented. While she admired the spread, her host took a seat opposite Pepper—a vision of casual indifference. Miss Lewis either had an impeccable poker face, or Dr. Banner had missed the window of opportunity.

 The robe-clad woman beckoned to the padded chair by the kitchen table. “Do sit down, sorry I just abandoned you like that. I aim to chill out at least one day a week. I heard it’s good for the nervous system.”

“Yes, I heard that rumour too.” They share wry smiles of understanding before Pepper continued. “You have a wonderful little place. Thank you for having me here.”  

“For you, I’ll make an exception—the least I can do after yesterday. My short temper shouldn’t excuse poor behaviour. So, here’s to manners.” Pepper would be lying had she said she wasn’t somewhat surprised. People rarely admitted when they were wrong. It took strength of character, especially when the situation could be construed in their favour. “Now, while I appreciate housewarming gifts, that’s not why you’re here, and I’m a little tired.”

Big breath. Pepper couldn’t afford any mistakes. “The situation was handled poorly, if- “

Darcy Lewis interjected carefully. “Yes, but no.”

“I’m sorry?”

“I appreciate your visit, but it’s done and dusted. Been so for two weeks. Poetics is something I haven’t got the patience for.” The tone was even and mildly amused just enough to let you know there were no hard feelings, but it was still a sore point.

Pepper sat there in silence before taking the glass of wine that she hadn’t planned to have. It was wine-o’clock somewhere, wasn’t it? She would have preferred the P.A. to be emotional; that would have meant that she still cared about the position. But when did a little resentment stop her from getting results? Maybe she needed to approach it differently.  “Tony said you were upset.”

Miss Lewis shrugged. “Tony’s not wrong. Shit happens, I’ll be fine.” Another disposal, but not before a slight pause and diverted gaze. Interesting.

“What will it take to get you back?”

Everyone in life had an agenda. Personal or public. Everyone wanted something. In essence, that’s what a job was. Time exchanged for monetary reward. Stark Industries wasn’t a charity organization. No one on the payroll was there because of some noble idea. It helped, but it was the salary and benefits that had people stay. It was all straightforward. The reason people left their employment because it stopped being worth their time.  Ideas needed funding; bills needed paying; living in N.Y.C. was expensive.

Bruce had called her in what could be described as panic while she was on the way to Miss Lewis’. Yes. Dr. Banner stammering on the phone with Tony in the background, being what he thought was the supportive voice of reason but sounded more like a long-suffering soul that you wanted to suffocate with a pillow. She didn’t want to deal with him. She was the C.E.O. It sounded entitled, but indeed it had to be the main benefit of being at the top, being able to avoid spending time with your ex.

You didn’t notice things done for you. No one notices the smooth ride, just the bumps. The last couple of months, things just got done. The small but crucial details already seen to. The C.E.O enjoyed it. No, enjoyed wasn’t a strong enough word. She loved it. It made her life easier. The Avengers were a good bunch but, in their lives, paranoia was a thing, and therapy wasn’t. Simple things were an unexpected struggle. Yes, there was an army of happy little helpers. Specialists on call every hour of the day and night.  A bunch of perfect strangers. Just the thing you didn’t want after the world has beaten you to a pulp.

 The Responsibilities one had working for someone like Dr. Bruce Banner, or Tony and the rest of the team for that matter, went much further and way deeper down the rabbit hole than the job description led the management to believe. There were things you couldn’t put in writing but still needed to be dealt with. These things needed to be done efficiently, without judgement and without fuss. Just done. Blood moped up, trash taken out, and excuses made to cover what needed covering. No one ever saw those things because no one spoke of them, and thus they fell silently between the cogs of the bureaucratic machine. Sure, most of the time, work consisted of purely generic tasks, but that's not all of the time.

 A migraine set in at the memory of her first year working for Tony. It was an uphill struggle that nearly killed her at the time. Sure, Tony Stark was all kinds of great, but he was also anything but easy to deal with. And that was when life was way simpler for everyone involved.

Pepper took a generous sip of the wine and waited. It was surprisingly well balanced, much like the woman that poured it for her. It hit the right notes on the palette.  Sharp, not overly sweet, notes of wild berries and something earthy, did the job well without being over pretentious. Plus, it paired well with the selection of savoury nibbles. Wine was art and science combined, like being a P.A.

To be a good P.A for the Avengers, you must come into the role with specific experience and understanding of the inner workings of drastically different minds. Miss Lewis had embraced it with Shield, Dr. Foster, Dr. Selvig and Thor. Not everyone could handle the pressure that existed around high-powered individuals. Many people delude themselves into thinking it isn’t going to affect them somehow, that the danger wasn’t real. Risk management wasn’t an empty phrase. The high moral ground wasn’t a magical place that protected you from harm. You had to be aware of all that and still send in the paperwork on time.

Miss Lewis was silent for a good minute, her eyes locked somewhere over Pepper’s right shoulder, face blank. She could tell it was going to be an uphill struggle.  Somebody once said to her that nothing worth keeping was ever easy. That included securing competent help.

“No.”

“Please.” A little humility never hurt.

“No, I – listen, Miss Potts.” The brunette deflated a little. Fatigue from last night was setting in.

 “Please call me Pepper.” She pressed on. Maybe it was selfish to push. There might be someone qualified out there, but Bruce’s guilt-ridden voice asking to get his P.A. back was going to haunt her nightmares, while Tony and his outrage were going to pick up the day shifts to make her life unbearable round the clock. Tony Stark had the knack, money, and time for it. So, she either was going to convince Miss Lewis to come back, or there would be a lawsuit against S.I. for harassment because Tony wasn’t planning to let this rest.  The latter was an outcome best avoided. The generous offer only appeared generous until you delved into how much they were going to save on everything else.

“Right. Pepper, it’s Darcy. Plain Darcy. Now, why are you making this difficult? I didn’t make a scene; I’m not suing, didn’t take anything that wasn’t mine on the way out. My departure was as amicable as I could make it. Everyone’s a winner.”

 “Everyone lost. Stark Industries, you, Dr. Banner.”  It was time to lay it on thick.

“Mr. Andrews got what he wanted, which was my ass out the door.” The flippant comment packed a punch.

“Mr. Andrews had no authority to dismiss you, a detail that Tony’s currently eager to explain to the man once he’s back from the holiday. You can have a front-row seat for that, you know.”


“Damn, you’re good.” No one has ever offered Darcy anything like that before. It was one of those things you saw on T.V. A pen and paper were pushed across the table.  A meaningful exchange of nods. Suspense hanging in the air. The anticipation. While her opinion of what she could achieve independently has drastically increased, she was nowhere near invaluable enough to warrant a blank cheque. Darcy leaned back. While there was nothing she would have liked more than enjoy the immense recognition, all she could think was, what the fuck has she missed?

“I’ll personally supply the popcorn; you could have the rest of the day off or the rest of the week. To savour the moment.”

“You need to stop, Pepper. Please. First in with monetary incentive, now playing on my pettiness-”

“Why? Did I miss the mark?” There was no answer to that. They both knew Pepper was right. That was the problem. The offer was way too good.

“Bruce doesn’t want a P.A., which kind of made the position redundant.”

“Bruce doesn’t want to need a P.A., or people that he has to depend on in life. He wants you back. Everyone wants you back.”

It sounded so sincere that Darcy wavered for a moment. “I can’t... I left.” When you leave, you stay that way. It was basically the law, wasn’t it? No one wanted the quitters back.

“As you said, you did so on as amicable terms as you could manage. Despite Bruce’s attitude, despite Mr. Andrews's actions, despite management's inability to step up when it came to the treatment you got, despite how you must have felt about the entire incident. I can’t stress enough how sorry I am for this shit show of a situation.”

“In hindsight, that might have been a mistake.”

“How about a paid vacation? Anywhere in the world, you pick-”

“I’m angry!” Darcy exclaimed suddenly, and C.E.O. recoiled in surprise. “I can’t come back; I’m upset. Ok? I can’t just-” The conflict inside her was real. This conversation was like picking at a scab. It never ended at one poke.

“You turned up for Tony.”

“Sure, let's bring up every single questionable decision I’ve made lately. That’s aiming a little low, don’t you think?” Something must have shown past the sarcasm because Virginia perked up in a way that indicated assumptions were made. ‘Shit.’ Darcy shifted.

“Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t realize-” Why did Potts look so pleased? That wasn’t right.

Darcy was on damage control immediately. “Don’t get carried away. We’re friends.” Silence followed that statement. ‘Fuck Tony. How the fuck is a man I haven’t even banged yet fucking me over?  The bastard.’  That’s why she didn’t mess about at work. Virginia Potts was no one’s fool.

“So… Tony?”

Darcy gritted her teeth. “I – yeah, you know what, sure, let's blame him. Tony’s got serious game, and I don’t need to care about my position in Stark Industries as I did before. A disaster was waiting to happen. That’s not what you want, is it?” ‘That should shut her up.’ Who wanted to invite trouble into their home? A good counter and hopefully closure. Darcy was so proud of herself she took another swing of the wine she’d been neglecting.

Instead, Potts smirked. Well, that wasn’t good. “I don’t think you realize how much easier my life would be, even if from a purely business perspective if I knew that Tony liaised with a responsible person. Instead of the plastic fantastic circus rides he takes for a spin when he’s bored.”

 “That’s… a little harsh.” Not quite the turn in the conversation that Darcy expected. She was being bated, surely. The trick was not to fall for it.

Her guest shrugged good-naturedly, but her calculating eyes were latched on Darcy. “His bedside manner leaves much to be desired, but other than that, it’s not a bad ride. Strong 4 out of 5. Would recommend but would not sign my real name under it.”

Darcy picked her jaw up from the table and cleared her throat. It wasn’t the response that she expected. Apparently, she wasn’t the only one with a bitch bone in them. “I - Not what I had in mind.”

“It’s never what anyone admits to having in mind. Tony has a talent for talking clothes of women.”

“Not that good.”

“Good enough to pique your interest.”

“It’s not hard. My social life has been somewhat lacking for a while.” So, she was a sucker for a man with a sense of humour. Never, not even once, had she overstepped with Stark. It wasn’t easy when all she could think was ‘fuck this shit.’

“Does Tony know?”

Darcy needed to quickly put an end of this conversation. "I have already seen him naked.”

“As long as you do your job, Darcy, you can see him in whatever state of undress you want.” 

Oh, wow. “That sounds a lot like pimping, and I don’t want to think about that. Anyway, shouldn’t you be more selective?”

“Why do you think I’m here?” The C.E.O voice was flat and it irked Darcy a little. She been on  a back foot since the woman came in. 

“I don’t know. My returning is a dumb idea. Besides, I’m not you. We’re allowed different mistakes on different steps of the corporate ladder. You have over ten years of exemplary employment record at the place. I have been there months.”

“Then don’t get on the ladder. You can be an independent consultant.  Monthly rolling contract. A lot of people do that. Incredibly lucrative.”

“Where’s the catch?”

“One year as a ‘consultant’ will net you more than a decade at your current position. You can nurse your wounded pride with a fully paid holiday, maybe some artisan champagne from Tony’s private reserve. I can tell you from personal experience; it’s significantly easier to face critique from an apartment with a view and private concierge.”

A laugh forced its way out. “I would hate to get on your bad side. All this sucking up, seriously. Surely there’s someone cheaper on your list.”

“There is, but none of them know that Dr. Banner likes his underwear starched.”

“He doesn’t. Extra fabric softener, not tumble dried.”

“The joys of being a P.A.”

“He wasn’t a bad boss, Pepper. What if he decides that he doesn’t want me after all? I leave my new job with potential for a second short stint back at S.I. That won’t look good on my CV.”

“Guaranteed yearlong employment in case of change of heart from Dr. Banner.”

“All that money, all this sucking up, just to get me onboard?”

“Darcy, you know better than anyone else; prevention is always cheaper than damage control.”


Virginia Potts left a couple of hours ago. A documentary about Chocolate was playing on the laptop while Darcy nursed a glass of wine and stared at the screen with unseeing eyes.

Mr. Andrews was getting fired. Probably on Monday. By Stark. If not him, then Miss Potts was going to do the honours. The disciplinary meeting that resulted in her dismissal kept replaying in a constant loop in Darcy’s head. Wouldn’t it be nice to be in the room when that idiot was going to have his ass handed back to him? It would, wouldn’t it?

Darcy popped another olive into her mouth.

Was it worth the risk of leaving her new position? Financially, most definitely. Not to the point of it being ludicrous, though Darcy wasn’t stupid. When someone insisted on how you were invaluable, they most definitely had a number in mind. In her case, it was a surprisingly generous one. The offer massaged her bruised her ego like it was obviously intended to. So yeah, she was tempted. This time around, she would get paid enough to relocate anywhere in the world after one year. Buy her own house. It was a luxury. She was fond of not spending stupid amounts of money on rent.

Was she in a good enough place mentally to be opening the giant can of worms that working for S.I. was? The few months of work that culminated in her dismissal were a clusterfuck.  Bad decisions all around. She was bitter, a common side effect of being side-lined. The problem was that she was still bitter.

Residual resentment still inhabited various nooks and crannies of her subconsciousness. ‘I’m angry!’ Darcy couldn’t believe she had said that out loud. Like a petulant child. It sounded like a lame excuse, didn’t it? How very unprofessional. Who does that? Her that’s who.

The anger was what sustained her sanity. The resentment was her saving grace. It hadn’t let her fall into despair when she realized she was being pushed out. When you’ve been holding onto something like your life depended on it, letting go was hard. Because her anger had protected her. Dr. Banner and she had a lot in common. They both added extra fabric softener for the unmentionables. Having a chafe down below, when every single step made you hate the world, could make anyone into a rage monster.

In all honesty, Dr. Banner wasn’t a bad boss. They just ran out of time-

The sudden banging made Darcy jump so bad she nearly fell off the bed. “Thor-damn it!”

“Leeeewis! Oooh, Leeeeewis!”

Darcy nearly took the door off its hinges when she threw it open.

“You do this again, and I will take this door and beat you to death with it.  Are we clear?!” Without waiting for an answer, she slammed the door shut, right in the face of one bewildered-looking Tony Stark. She was not dealing with his ego twice in one day.



Let me know what you think, Peeps!



 

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