Chapter Text
Darcy Lewis put the finishing touches on her makeup, then stood and smoothed down the front of her dark blue cocktail dress.
“Ouch,” she said as her shoulder ached where she had been shot, wincing. The sling she’d worn for the last few months had just been removed by the doctor that morning, and she was still trying to get used to having full mobility in both arms.
“Shit,” she said as she looked at the clock, “I’m late.”
She grabbed her clutch – slowly this time - and rushed out the door. Tony Stark was throwing an impromptu, small (in his words, which probably meant over one hundred people) bash celebrating her recovery, and she couldn’t be late for her own party.
If she was late, it would be because she had spent an inordinate amount of time making sure she looked her best, all because Steve had said that Bucky Barnes might show up at the party. Bucky had been MIA since they had been rescued from Baron von Strucker by the Avengers, and she missed him terribly.
Steve had told her that Bucky had spent several weeks in the hospital recovering from his injuries and undergoing various physical and psychological tests to determine what Hydra had done to him. The good news was that there had been no signs so far of permanent brain damage from the frequent brainwashing and cryogenic freezes he had been subjected to, presumably due to the weak form of super soldier serum that had been found in his blood. The bad news, however, was that after he had been released from the hospital Bucky had cut himself off from the world as he struggled to cope with his slowly re-emerging memories.
Some of the higher-ups in what remained of S.H.I.E.L.D were calling for him to be interrogated, and possibly imprisoned for his crimes; so far, however, Steve had managed to hold them off, outright pretending he had no knowledge of Bucky’s current whereabouts.
If she didn’t see him soon, she was going to track his ass down and give him a piece of her mind – she was trying to be patient, but patience was not a virtue she possessed. She just wanted to know that he was okay, to see it for herself.
She sighed as she stepped into the elevator, nodding distractedly at the man who was already there.
“Hey, Clint.”
She pulled out her cell phone and checked to see if she had any calls or text messages from Steve, but there was nothing. Frustrated, she went to put it back into her clutch when the phone started to vibrate, indicating she had a call. She blinked at the display in surprise as she saw the caller was none other than Clint Barton, the man who was supposedly in the elevator with her.
She tried not to visibly tense – maybe Natasha was calling her on Clint’s phone, and there was nothing to worry about.
“Hello?” she answered, hoping she sounded normal.
“Hey, Darce – where are you? You’re late to your own party!” Clint said.
The noise from the party was so loud, she could barely hear him; hopefully the person in the elevator with her wouldn’t be able to, either.
“I’m in the elevator – I’ll be there in a couple minutes, okay?” she said.
“Yeah – hey! Give me that back!” Clint said before another voice came on the phone.
“Darcy, get your ass up here! We started without you,” Tony Stark shouted.
“I’m almost there,” she said before hanging up.
The elevator suddenly jerked to a stop, and she cried out in pain as her bad shoulder slammed into the wall.
She righted herself, then watched as “Clint Barton” pressed the side of his head, then peeled off his face to reveal…Franz.
“Neat trick,” she said, “Natasha wore it better.”
“Darcy,” Franz said as he pulled a gun out of his jacket and pointed it at her.
Darcy couldn’t help but laugh; Franz, however, was not amused.
“This is no laughing matter, Darcy,” he said angrily.
“No, it really, really is a laughing matter,” Darcy said when she could finally stop laughing long enough to speak, “You’re an idiot.”
“What, getting your ass kicked by Captain America once wasn’t enough? You do realize that we are –“ she paused to look at the floor display – “fifteen floors away from a floor full of superheroes and a lot of very rich, very famous people? How did you get out of jail, anyway?”
She almost felt sorry for Franz as he struggled to decide which of her many questions he should answer first, or even if he should answer at all.
“Prison records can be faked,” he said, answering the last question, “Hydra is everywhere.”
He waved the gun around as he expounded, “We will go see your superheroes. I will threaten your life, and they will tell us where the Winter Soldier is. I will bring him home and make up for my earlier failures.”
Darcy smirked at him. “Got in trouble for that, huh?”
Franz growled at her.
“Down, boy,” she said as she considered what she should do next. True, they were almost at the penthouse, but if she didn’t warn the Avengers, there was a chance Franz would be able to get off the elevator and hurt one or more innocent bystanders before they could stop him.
She smiled, remembering that Tony had told her a secret phrase that would alert Jarvis they were in trouble, allowing him to notify the nearest Avenger and activate his emergency protocols.
“You forgot one thing,” she said, “You forgot about Jarvis. Jarvis will save me if I’m in danger.”
Franz looked confused.
“Who is – “ he began, but was interrupted as the elevator suddenly began to move again, rapidly gaining speed. Startled, he frantically pounded the Emergency Stop button.
Darcy took advantage of his distraction to remove her shoe, repeatedly jamming the heel into any part of him she could reach using her uninjured arm. She silently thanked Natasha, who had advised her that footwear should be fashionable and functional.
Franz howled in pain and raised the gun, apparently forgetting his plan to take her hostage.
Three things happened at once – Franz went to pull the trigger, Darcy moved to bring the heel of her shoe into his eye, and the elevator slammed to a halt, the doors opening. Franz never stood a chance – before the doors had even finished opening, Thor had busted through and grabbed him, throwing him out of the elevator and into the room.
Franz landed with a thud. He was stunned momentarily, but he quickly recovered, scrambling for the gun that had flown out of his hand when Thor grabbed him.
One sharp kick from Natasha and he fell back to the floor, unconscious.
“Well, that was exciting,” Tony drawled.
Darcy, whose head was spinning, leaned against the elevator door to see all of the Avengers standing in a loose circle around Franz while the rest of the party-goers stared on in awe. When they saw Franz wasn’t going to get up again, hands began to clap and the crowd cheered.
Tony preened; Steve glowered; Clint was struggling not to laugh; Natasha rolled her eyes; Bruce looked like he was desperately trying to find his happy place.
Thor ignored everything around him, looking Darcy over as he reached out a hand to steady her.
“Lady Darcy, are you injured?” he said.
“Just another day at the office,” Darcy said glibly as she took his proffered hand and stepped out of the elevator.
“Although...I could use another pair of shoes,” she said, looking woefully at the shoe in her hand. It was undamaged, but she wasn’t exactly thrilled at the prospect of putting it back on.
“That can be arranged,” Natasha said as Thor stood there, looking perplexed.
“I’ll take out the trash,” Clint said, hooking his hands underneath Franz’s arms and carrying him into the elevator fireman style. When Franz began to stir, Clint’s hand slipped, and Franz’s head hit the elevator door, sending him back into unconsciousness.
“Oops,” Clint said, his eyes wide with innocence, “My hands were sweaty.”
“Wait.” Darcy said as he went to close the door.
“Thank you. All of you…including you, Jarvis,” she said, looking at each Avenger and then at the ceiling (which she figured was appropriate).
“You’re welcome, Miss Lewis,” Jarvis said as the elevator doors closed.
“Like you said, just another day at the office,” Tony said as he wrapped his arm around her shoulders and turned her towards the bar.
At his signal, the music began to play, and everyone started to party again as if nothing had happened.
“Now let’s get you out of these shoes and get you a drink,” Tony said, waiting for her to remove her other shoe.
A waiter came up and took the shoes and Tony led her to the bar, the rest of the Avengers in tow.
“Let’s find you a real knockout,” Tony said.
“That pun was bad even for you,” Darcy groaned.
Tony grinned unrepentantly.