Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

“Any plans for your Friday night, Darcy?”

Natasha Romanoff was leaning against the inside of the door, arms across her chest and a coy smirk on her face. This wasn’t an unusual run-in. The pair typically traded tidbits and gossip in their off-hours, when the spy’s feet were on Continental United States’ soil, and Darcy’s head wasn’t crunching numbers or figuring out the latest metaphysical disaster in the universe.

“Just cat sitting.”

Her blue eyes slid guiltily to the far side of the room, purposely ignoring the way Natasha’s flickered with intrigue and a hint of mischief. The truth was, Darcy’s weekend plans had consumed her every thought all day, and each time she checked the clock, she mentally counted down to her after-work plans.

“For Barnes?”

There was a silent ‘finally’ at the end of her question as if her steadily pushing the pair together behind the scenes wasn’t an obvious enough endorsement. Natasha Romanoff prided herself in matchmaking, or maybe she just had too much time on her hands. Darcy had found herself at one too many events, left alone at a table or the bar with Natasha’s eyes watching from the next table over.

Assessing, calculating, plotting— typical spy stuff.

So when Bucky had waltzed into the office last week, complaining about a mission away from home with his usual cat-sitter out of town, Darcy piped up pretty quickly as a volunteer. Which was maybe why she felt the need to school her expression, to hide the victorious little smile that was threatening, the giddy little grin.

That she’d managed to catch this break all on her own, even if he’d prefaced it with a, “Are you sure? He’s a bit of a handful?”

Still, something about Natasha’s impressed look made her feel good enough not to correct her hunch.

No harm in playing along with it, stringing her along. Even if there was a part of her that wished it would be the first half of the fairytale she’d been daydreaming since Barnes started working at the Tower in the first place.

But hadn’t everyone had at least one superhero fantasy in their life?

“Mhm.” Leaning her hip against the edge of her desk, Darcy’s thoughts drifted as she mused approvingly, “Who would have thought. Bucky Barnes, cat dad.”

“Just don’t call him ‘daddy,’” Natasha snickered.

Darcy all but turned purple, snapped cleanly out of her little daydream as her eyes narrowed, “Nat! Why the hell would you put that in my head??”

Now it was going to be the only thing she thought about, the word already hot on her tongue (and written all across her face in a signature red flush), and she felt guilty just thinking about it. OK, so maybe she thought she’d caught him looking at her too, a couple times, like they were dancing around each other’s orbits, just out of reach. Though, most times, Darcy convinced herself it was just a fluke.

After all, Darcy Lewis wasn’t expecting a miracle, and the truth was, that was what it would take for Bucky Barnes, a categorical twelve out of a ten, to even notice her like that.

So, for now, it would remain a crush— the special squishy, breathless kind that she hadn’t felt since freshman year of college.

“Just thought I’d warn you he’s not into that,” Natasha chuckled, teeth glinting.

“Great,” she huffed with a roll of her eyes. “Thanks for the tip. Wait— how do you know that?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know,” Nat crooned, lips twisting into a smile as she scooped up her cell phone and get to her feet. “Anyway, I think that’s my cue to go. Good luck tonight!”

Darcy stood a little stunned in her office for a moment, trying to decide if she even wanted to know how Natasha knew that.

She quickly decided she didn’t, gathering her things and heading home as her mind swam.

Later that day, Bucky was about ready to give up on it entirely.

It wasn’t that their last mission had gone poorly or even that he’d been pulled on a last-minute overnight that would mean scrapping his usual Friday night plans (lazing on the couch with Alpine and catching up on trash television— his not-so-secret shame).

No. What was really making today the worst were his coworkers.

“You never let me stay the night,” Clint whined as he restocked his quiver, each colour coordinated with whatever unique ability he’d given them. Which would almost be clever if he ever remembered which colour stood for what.

But then again, Barton was a special breed.

Bucky shook his head, huffing a laugh, “You live down the street.”

“Well, it’s not like you let me stay over either,” Sam added. “Not even after that time we got back at like three in the morning, and the Tower was completely trashed.”

His particular eyebrow waggle made Bucky roll his eyes— Wilson was enjoying this way too much. If Bucky knew any better, he’d assume Sam had something to do with this whole thing, maybe nudged Darcy a little to take the gig, with the way he was on this like a dog with a bone.

But he was pretty sure the headstrong Darcy Lewis couldn’t be swayed by anyone.

At least, that’s what he was counting on.”

“I don’t take my work home with me,” Bucky replied without missing a beat.

Which was mostly true. Bucky liked to think it was part of his work/life balance.

“Oh, but Clint isn’t ‘work?’”

“No, he’s a pain in the ass,” Bucky groused. “And frankly, so are you.”

On the other side of town, back at her Midtown apartment, Darcy Lewis was getting a very different kind of talk.

“What do you mean you’re moving out?”

Jane’s eyes drooped to the floor, guilty as she tried to slip in a morsel of information before she left on her next trip. She fidgeted with her carry-on backpack, which made her look more like she was going on a long hike than a fancy physics conference.

“Maybe this will be a good opportunity for you?” she replied, more of a question than an answer, and not a very convincing one, at that.

“You’re just saying that because you feel bad for abandoning me,” Darcy huffed, arms crossed her chest as the gravity of her words set in. She hadn’t been on her own since before New Mexico, and the last thing Darcy wanted to do right now was to relive her college days. “I can’t believe you’re moving out.”

“Technically, I’m undecided.”

Darcy scoffed, “You’re serious? This isn’t declaring a major or deciding what to title your Ph.D. When are you going to decide?”

Jane shrunk back slightly, clearly not having thought through how poorly her roommate might take this news— which wasn’t at all shocking for Darcy. More frustrating than anything, actually. Finding a roommate was a long and arduous process, especially as a professional in the city. If she only had a month or two, she was already behind on finding a replacement.

“Well, I’m in Austin for the next few weeks and then maybe Asgard, but after that, I don’t think I can justify living in the city right now,” Jane explained, softening slightly as she caught her friend’s pout. “Darcy, you’ll get the whole place to yourself. It’s not like you can’t afford it.”

“I don’t want to afford it,” Darcy all but whined. “I want my friend.”

Jane frowned, reach out to grab and squeeze Darcy’s hand, “I know. We can talk more when I get back, alright. And you have that thing tonight, right? At Sergeant Barnes’ place?”

“Pretty sure he goes by Bucky,” Darcy said, trying to mask the flutter in her chest that just so happened to occur every time she thought about the night ahead. As frustrated as she was with the whole roomie situation, Darcy didn’t want Jane to leave on a sour note, “But yeah, about the apartment… I… You just caught me by surprise, is all. I’ll figure it out.”

She wasn’t sure how, but she would.

It wasn’t like Darcy had never considered it herself. Even if Jane hadn’t told her she was leaving upfront, Darcy spent more time alone than she did with her friend anyway. and sure, maybe tonight she could test the waters a little.

Either way, each day alone in the two-bedroom felt emptier and emptier without Jane— now, doubly so. Darcy was even starting to wonder if she was cut out for this whole ‘living on her own’ thing at all.

Maybe Jane was right. Maybe tonight would help her see what it’d be like living the bachelor life, get outside of the lab for a bit. Plus, Bucky Barnes was more than attractive— and actually nice, mostly soft-spoken except for a snarky streak, which Darcy, of all people, could respect.

But the truth was, she had mostly taken the gig at Barnes’ to distract herself from another night alone in Jane and her apartment.

Or so she had convinced herself.

Chapter Text

It took Darcy much too long to get ready that night— probably the most effort she’d put into getting dressed since her senior prom. Or maybe that convention in Vegas with Jane— the one with an open bar. God, drunk physicists were a special kind of entertaining.

Either way, Darcy found herself redrawing her eyeliner at least five times before both eyes looked remotely similar. Her lipstick was half chewed off before she even grabbed her purse. And had Darcy not needed to lock the door behind her, she definitely would have left her keys behind.

In short, Darcy Lewis was a mess, trying hard to keep the bubbling nerves down long enough to put on a good show in front of Bucky. Part of her wondered if Jane’s admission was the thing derailing the whole night, but Darcy was kind of a disaster on the best of days, so this might have been status quo.

Because why would anything in her life be easy?

“Ten minutes with him, a night with Alpine, and by morning, maybe I’ll work up the nerve to not be a bumbling pile of goo every time he looks at me,” she muttered to herself like a private pep talk during one last look in the mirror before she headed out the door.

It almost felt like the universe was cheering her on all the way there. The subway was miraculously on time, it hadn’t started raining, and Bucky was waiting for her, already in his tac gear, when she made it up the three flights of stairs to his unit.

But if the lack of elevator was the only hitch in her evening so far, Darcy was starting off on a good foot, all things considered.

“You’re early,” he offered with a soft smile, the kind that wrinkled the corners of his eyes. “Come on in, I’ll introduce you to the little furball.”

Her heart skipped a beat as he led Darcy through the door with a gentle hand on her shoulder. The short-lived contact felt electric, even through her knit cardigan, but she was quickly distracted by the beautiful, modern space that looked much bigger on the inside than she would have assumed from the hall.

Floor to ceiling windows overlooked the Manhattan skyline, a view Darcy couldn’t even dream of affording. Never mind the vaulted ceilings and pristine kitchen.

“Nice place,” Darcy murmured in awe, wondering just how much rent ran on a place like this— though she was a little too scared to ask.

But Bucky was already halfway to the living area, where Alpine was a furry little donut on the couch, presumably stealing the warmth that Bucky had left behind when he got up. He let out a little trill as Bucky stroked his fur, eyes like slits as they scrutinized an unfamiliar Darcy.

“Alp, this is Darcy. Darcy, this is Alpine,” Bucky introduced with a chuckle.

Something about the tone he slipped into, soft and cooing, melted every organ inside Darcy’s body, and it was getting harder and harder to keep the gooey feeling at bay.

“Well, aren’t you handsome?” she crooned, hunched down to scratch between his ears, overjoyed when Alpine shut his eyes and relaxed back to sleep.

“Looks like you two will get along just fine,” Bucky said, sounding more relieved than anything.

He gave her the rundown, pre-bed wet food for the cat, treats at her discretion and a couple of spritzes of water for the plants that she was pretty sure he only kept alive due to spite. He’d let it slip a month back that Sam had gifted them to him with a joke that they’d be dead within the week.

And she was pretty sure his newfound green thumb was just another dig to prove him wrong.

“Have you had dinner yet?”

There were take-out menus by the door and a fifty-dollar bill on the counter to pay for dinner. The fridge was fully stocked, and the cat treats were displayed in a glass jar, setting in a place of honour on the mantle. That basically told Darcy everything she needed to know about him, along with the reassuring ruffle he gave Alpine every time he passed his sleeping form on the couch.

“You don’t have to stay the night, you know,” Bucky offered just as he was reaching for his keys, flipping them over in his palm. “You could always just feed him and head back to your place.”

It almost looked like he didn’t want to leave, and she hoped he wasn’t trying to let her down easy. But going back to her now-empty apartment wasn’t exactly a draw, not after that post-work discussion, and she wasn’t about to drawn Bucky into her TMI existential crisis as she tried to process the fact that she’d have to look for a new roommate soon.

Darcy shrugged, trying to keep it casual, as her heart thudded in her ears. “Jane won’t let me get a cat— allergies or something— so, honestly, I’ll take any excuse for some kitty cuddles.”

Which was half-true. It had to be— that was the only way she’d get away fudging an answer in Bucky Barnes’ presence. Being around Natasha long enough had taught her as much.

Bucky considered her answer, huffing out a laugh as his lips broke into a signature half-smile, “Then I’ll see you when I see you. Probably some ungodly hour, so feel free to make yourself comfortable in the guest room. I promise to feed you in the morning— got the ingredients on my way home.”

Her heart pitter-pattered at the thought of him making her breakfast, and she half-wondered if the former Winter Soldier wore sweatpants at home.

Darcy’s mouth was a desert as she nodded herself back into reality and managed to mutter, “Sounds great.”

He offered one last smile and a wave before the front door closed behind him, and Darcy Lewis sighed in relief, sagging against the couch next to a ruffled Alpine.

“What do you think we should have for dinner, huh?” she asked him, eyeing the pamphlets on the kitchen table.

They both ate well that night— Darcy settled on pizza while Alpine enjoyed his bounty of wet food. Which was a total bribe, by the way. A pay-off to ensure the rest of her night could go as planned. The thing Darcy had neglecting to mention as Bucky left that night, was that she’d been looking forward to ‘operation Bucky Barnes recon’ all week, hoping to learn more about the often reserved Barnes.

Trying to figure out just what made him tick.

She wasn’t sure why she’d always been drawn to him— they really couldn’t be more different, but maybe that was the draw. Either way, Darcy waited until Alpine was snoring softly on Bucky’s bed before tip-toeing around the place, her guilt making this feel more like a sting operation than a simple housesitting gig.

Especially amongst the swathe of cleverly disguised security cameras and sensors scattered around the place.

First stop: the bookshelf. A mix of hardcover and soft covers sat on the shelf, mixed amongst old photo albums and what looked like sketchbooks. A framed newspaper clip from Sam’s first gig as Captain America (she wondered if Sam even knew it was there) and an old sepia-toned print of a young Steve and Bucky off to war stood framed on the shelves.

Something twisted in her chest at the sight, and Darcy was quick to move onto the next thing to get her mind off it.

A glass jar with what looked like catnip sat on a top shelf— weed wouldn’t affect him anyway, right? Darcy held herself back from prying open the lid to check. She knew better than to leave fingerprints where they shouldn’t be, especially in a former assassin’s house.

No, instead, she wove her way towards the guest room down the hall. She (and most people) would probably assume it’d be a dead-end, what with him offering it to her for the night and everything. But one would be surprised just how much Darcy Lewis could discern from home decor details.

Cheap duvet, neutral colour, bare grey walls. Tasteful, but boring. Looking around the room a little closer, Darcy realized that Bucky Barnes was definitely a man of few frills, but he didn’t skimp out on thread count, she realized, looking down approvingly.

That was a good sign.

There were a few pieces of art on the walls, too— some pencil sketches that might have been Steve’s, but some original paintings too. Landscapes, mostly, of places Darcy couldn’t quite place.

“Mrow?” Alpine curled himself around Darcy’s legs before hopping onto the couch as if he was trying to guide her back to the living room.

Taking that as a good a sign as any, Darcy headed back, ready to plop down beside him— well, at least until she spotted a familiar device until his TV.

“A DVD player? Ancient,” Darcy whistled to herself with a chuckle.

The only people she knew with dedicated DVD players anymore were grandmothers and film buffs, and for the sake of the evening, she was hoping it was the latter.

“Only one way to find out,” she muttered to herself before pressing play on the front of the machine.

The disk inside whirred into place, a menu appearing on the TV.

The Hobbit? Well, there were worse things to subject one’s self to. She started it up and settled down amidst the pillows and blankets Alpine had already burrowed into.

She didn’t remember her head hitting the pillow.

The next thing Darcy knew, she was flat on the leather couch, the loading screen of the DVD glowing in the background. She stretched, reaching out towards her phone to check the time. 3:06 AM. The furry lump that had been napping at her feet was no longer there.

“Alpine?” she called out, voice tinged with sleep as she yawned and turned off the TV.

She decided to tidy up a bit before heading to bed, but Alpine never emerged.

The panic didn’t set in until she padded to the bathroom, then the kitchen, the guest room and even Bucky’s room, and still didn’t see any sign of the cat. Anywhere. Not under any furniture or blankets, covers, beds. Darcy was no stranger to cats and their ability to become liquid. She’d tried all the usual hiding spots, even the unconventional ones.

But still, no Alpine.

It was 3:35 AM then, when she’d exhausted all of her options and sat in a heap on his living room floor wondering how the hell she’d managed to lose Bucky Barnes’ cat. She was surprised she wasn’t blubbering by now, but it was the prickle of fear, the one that crawled across her skin, leaving an itchy, blotchy mess in its wake.

“How the hell does a cat disappear in a low-rise penthouse? Especially one owned by a paranoid ex-assassin with locks and alarms on everything?”

Spotting her cellphone on the coffee table, Darcy reached up and flipped it on, scrolling through her contacts. It might have been four in the morning, but thankfully her friends tended to work the same odd hours she did— so she could probably reach at least one of them, right? Out of habit, her thumb hit Jane’s name.

Three unanswered rings later and Darcy realized she was definitely crashing after her flight. Either that or on a science bender. Either way, dead to the world.

“Shit.”

After a few scrolls, she tapped Natasha’s spider-emoji-laden contact card but only hit voicemail. Darcy couldn’t stop the panic from bubbling out as she left a message faster than she could think it through.

“Uh, hi. It’s Darcy. I’m cat sitting Alpine, and he um, kinda sorta disappeared? And I guess I’m just wondering, even though you’re definitely on a mission, if you know where his usual spots are?” Darcy chewed her lip, taking a shaky breath before adding a wavering, “Or how much Barnes is going to hate me when he gets home? Anyway, I should go— thanks.”

It wasn’t until she hung up that she’d realized how pointless that had been.

“Who the hell else….” Darcy murmured to herself, flicking through her contact list before one name flicked on the lightbulb in her head. “Pick up, pick up….”

“Hello?”

“Barton! Please help. I’m here at Bucky’s, and everything was going fine until I woke up and Alpine was gone. I literally had one job and I can’t even do that right— and why are you laughing?!”

Clint Barton snorted on the other end of the line, his breathy chuckles cutting into her panicked rambling, “They’re just touching down now. He’ll be home by six, kid.”

“But—”

“Get some sleep, Darcy. Sounds like you need it.”

“Wait—!”

But then it was just her and the dial tone.

Darcy didn’t understand precisely why Clint had thought that was so funny or why he hung up on her, but it didn’t settle the gurgling in her stomach as she tried to figure out her next steps. Darcy’s heart was about ready to beat out of her chest, skin cold and clammy as she paced up and down the narrow hallway to the front door.

“Do I go out onto the street and try to find him? Where would I even start? Shelters aren’t open, and it's not like Alpine is a goldfish I can just replace— though that’s not a great option either.” Darcy was about ready to pull her hair out as she groaned, “I’m officially the worst cat sitter ever.”

Her body slumped into the couch, defeated. Only she could manage to lose her only charge in the most fortified apartment in Brooklyn. As far as she was concerned, there was nothing left to do but admit defeat, to fess up to the act and hope that Bucky wouldn’t turn all of Stark Industries against her, forcing her out of her cushy apartment faster than Jane could make it back from her conference.

At least that way, it would be decided for her?

The real weight on her mind, the heaviness in the pit of her stomach, was how much she was going to disappoint Bucky. Maybe she’d been too cavalier— perhaps this had just been another thing that Darcy should have relegated to a mid-afternoon daydream. But either way, it didn’t look like she’d be riding off into the sunset with him anytime soon.

Taking a deep breath, Darcy steadied herself and pushed the call button.

“Hi, um, Darcy here. I hope your mission went well,” she cringed, hating how awkward she sounded, but how exactly was one supposed to segue into this? “I uh, don’t want to alarm you, but I can’t find Alpine right now— and I’m sure she’ll reappear eventually —you know how cats are— but uh, I’m a little worried. And I really don’t want you to hate me, even if your ‘disappointed in me’ face is kind of adorable, and I have a huge crush on you, but— wait, no, shit. Let me—”

And right before Darcy was about to hit the pound symbol, to delete that tragic mess of emotions from existence, her thumb slipped.

“No.”

Her screen went black; the call ended as she stared at her palm in disbelief.

“No. No, no, no…!” She gasped, every syllable more panicked.

Did she just admit to Bucky that he was adorable? She’d practically gushed— an obvious sign of a tragic, schoolgirl-level crush. And worst of all, all in the same voicemail, she told him she lost his cat??

Darcy flew to her call history, tapping on the number. She was going to fix this— tell him she was drunk or half asleep or that she was just pulling his leg. Ready to throw anything at the wall in the hopes that it would stick.

In the hopes that she might not entirely embarrass herself just this one time.

“Please, please, please ignore my last message,” she muttered to herself, the closest thing to a prayer she’d said since fifth grade.

Instead, a new tone hit her ear.

“The voicemail inbox of the subscriber you are trying to reach is currently full. Please try again later.”

Darcy stared down at her phone in horror. How the hell could Stark wire the Avengers up with their own private phone network and not provide them unlimited voicemails? What kind of gig was he running here?

How the hell had she managed to get herself into the mess in the first place?

Quickly running out of both time and options, Darcy texted the same sentiment for good measure. Hoping that he’d check his texts before his voicemails anyway— maybe his reclusive tendencies could work to her benefit for once.

Once she was done, Darcy stared at the phone in her hands, chin wobbling. Bucky would be back at 6 AM. So at 5:45 AM, resigned to her fate, Darcy spent the last twelve minutes pacing.

Bucky was uncharacteristically late, carrying a coffee to-go cup and a bag full of sweaty gear. His eyes widened as he caught Darcy’s eyes, but he covered it with a soft smile, “I didn’t think you’d be up. Since when are you an early riser?”

Throat tight, Darcy very nearly swore. Not only was he waltzing in, thinking everything was fine and dandy, but he clearly hadn’t listened to the voicemail yet. On the one hand, she was relieved, hopeful she could maybe dissuade him or sneak his phone to delete it from the line-up or something (she really needed a friend at the NSA).

On the other hand, it meant she’d have to explain the whole situation to him. In-person. And watch his expression fall and the disappointment settle in real-time.

“Is everything alright?” Bucky asked, face creasing in concern. “Did I miss a text or something—?”

“No! No,” Darcy said a little bit too quickly, biting her lip.

She’d have to tell him sooner or later.

“So…?”

Darcy took a deep breath. “I really messed up.”

“I really doubt you could manage to do that in a few hours, Darce. What happened?” Bucky asked, taking a few steps towards her.

She instinctively stepped two steps back, trying to keep some distance between them. Somehow she thought that might make it hurt less.

“I lost Alpine.”

Bucky’s brows screwed up, “Lost… Alpine?”

Oh, god. Now he was in shock. Darcy cycled into rambling apology mode, trying to soothe the impending blow-out.

“Bucky, I am so sorry— I fell asleep, and when I woke up, Alpine was nowhere to be seen. And I swear I checked everywhere— I didn’t even open the front door after the pizza guy, and….”

The words that should have followed died on her lips as she traced Bucky’s ever-drifting gaze behind her, spotting the telltale white fur moving in smooth circles around her ankles. There was a dried leaf stuck to his coat, just above the base of his swishing tail.

“I-Is…? How?” Darcy asked, perplexed as she knelt down to pick the foliage out. A clear sign he’d managed to get outside somehow. “But… Every window was closed, every door locked. Are you some sort of escape artist?”

“Just like his dad,” Bucky chuckled, sounding almost proud, though Darcy was thinking too hard to hear it. “See? Everything’s fine— Darcy, are you OK?”

She’d just spent the last two hours running through her whole life in her head, wondering just which super-prison SHIELD was going to send her to after pissing off the former Winter Soldier. Maybe she'd have to enter Witness Protection or move out to Florida or something.

Her heart was still racing a million beats a minute, face hotter than the sun as she stared at him blankly. She could barely breathe, so embarrassed that she was hoping the floor would just swallow her whole and put her out of her misery.

She’d called his teammates in a panic. She’d called him in a panic.

Darcy Lewis knew she was never going to live this down.

Bucky reached into his wallet for payment, but Darcy shook her head, hand waving him off as she avoided eye contact. There was no way she was going to accept money for this fiasco of a night.

“I uh, completely understand if you never want to see me again. I’ll put in a transfer request on Monday,” Darcy murmured as she gathered her things, face as blank as her emotions would allow. “Oh, and whatever you do, please don’t check your voicemail.”

Rushing out of the apartment before he could get another word in, there was only one possible explanation for the whole night:

Karma. This was definitely karma.

Chapter Text

Bucky Barnes was left more than a little perplexed, standing in the wake of Darcy’s Lewis’ heated exit, wondering what the hell had just happened.

Apparently, it wasn’t bad enough that he’d been teased all the day before about him somehow conning Darcy into watching his cat.

Instead, his poor cat sitter, a very nervous Darcy Lewis, stood waiting in his apartment, halfway through some kind of confession as Alpine stood at her feet. She looked about ready to burst into tears as she left, muttering something about putting in her notice, which made his stomach twist itself into anxious knots as she flew out the door.

There was no way it was that bad, right? It was just a misunderstanding, and there were no bad feelings on his end. And as for the quitting comment, that had to have been a joke…

Right?

It was hard to read into her tone— he didn’t spend a lot of time around Darcy Lewis. He’d arranged tonight hoping to change that, but it didn’t look like it had gone very well, even with his limited knowledge in Darcyisms.

Bucky didn’t understand it, not the magnitude or the reasoning. Not until he reached into his pocket, ready to delete the voicemail she’d message.

Instead, in his post-mission haze, he got distracted by a pair of texts sitting unread on his phone.

Clint: Take it easy on the poor kid— Alpine was kind of an asshole.

Nat: Based on the voicemail I just got, you owe that poor girl a drink, Barnes. You didn’t warn her about Alpine??

The cat in question meowed innocently as he looped his body around his ankles.

The little shit.

Well, that explained why she looked so upset, having probably spent hours wondering how he was going to react to her losing his cat. Bucky instantly regretted not warning her about his Houdini tendencies, but he’d been so distracted by those bright blue, doll-like eyes and the sweet gap-toothed grin staring back at him that all thought seemed to melt out of his brain when she’d offered.

Jesus. She must have been expecting for him to read her the riot act after all that.

Bucky yawned, the exhaustion from a full day of hunting down Hydra splinter cells weighing down every limb. He’d deal with this in the morning — the real morning, when ordinary people awoke on weekends— he decided. He was no good to anyone tired, groggy and perplexed. By morning he’d be able to straighten this out, maybe bring Darcy some apology breakfast and smooth this whole saga over.

After all, it was just a simple misunderstanding, right?

Darcy Lewis did not go home that morning. She walked a few blocks from where Bucky lived to a familiar brick apartment building she happened to have a key-fob to. Along the way, her phone buzzed, Jane’s voice ringing out in concern as she flipped on her front-facing camera.

Of course, Darcy had to tell her the whole sordid tale in 1080p—it was the closest thing to venting in person, and thankfully there weren’t too many people out and about in the city at this house. But, of course, Jane latched onto the one thing she wished she didn’t have to talk about.

“You told him he was cute?”

“Mhm,” she replied, chewing on her thumbnail as she crossed the street, phone held in the air in front of her.

“In a voicemail,” Jane continued.

“A panicked voicemail.” Jane’s side-eye didn’t budge, even over video chat, but Darcy still felt the need to justify it for some reason, the words bubbling out from her mouth before she could stop them. “What? I thought I lost his cat, and he was going to hate me forever for it, get me kicked out of the Tower or something….”

Darcy could feel the eyes of the occasional on-looker boring holes into the side of her face as she talked, but she simply picked up her pace and tried to ignore them.

Jane, on the other hand, didn’t look convinced, “Is that what really freaked you out? I mean, it wasn’t so long ago you were thinking about leaving.”

Which was true, but the more Darcy thought about leaving her safe and super-secret little SHIELD-funded bubble, the more that sense of dread kicked in. It had been so long since she’d considered herself part of the outside world (knowledge of alien, metahuman, and supervillain existence will do that to you) that Darcy was pretty sure she wouldn’t fit in, even if she tried.

It was bad enough trying to explain what she did for work on blind dates— most people just wanted to know if she’d met the Avengers, which made it harder and harder to avoid rolling her eyes in response.

But instead of going off on another tangent, Darcy merely shook her head, “I know I have it good here, and I intend to stay.”

“If that’s what you want,” Jane shrugged, a little softer.

“Yeah, well, that’s only if they don’t fire me,” Darcy grumbled, huffing as she waited for the crossing light to change.

“I doubt it would come to that. Remember how worried you were after London?” Jane soothed. “Or they could always place you somewhere else. I mean, you can travel.”

Darcy had always left the life of adventure to Jane. She was fine taking the contracts closer to home or just working on whatever SHIELD assigned to her. Somehow, leaving the city she’d worked so hard to work in just felt ungrateful.

“You mean run away? No.” Darcy sighed. “Maybe I’ll look into teaching on the side or something, get them to throw in some sweet on-campus apartment or something.”

“I have contacts at Columbia who’ve been pestering me for a sessional lecturer position?”

Darcy hummed, “Maybe.”

But she wasn’t convinced. No matter how she looked at it, whether it was Jane’s scraps or her running away, it looked like a failure, and Darcy Lewis didn’t admit defeat.

“Anyway, I’m just at Clint’s now. I’ll let you go.”

“Keep me posted.”

Her screen clicked to black, and she quickly shoved it into her pocket as she entered the apartment building that might have been a little too familiar— not that she and Clint had ever been like that. They just had a lot of John Wayne marathons, and his place was a good one to crash in when Jane was out of town, and the apartment felt too big.

Otherwise known as days like today.

And considering Darcy was running on two hours of sleep, she was pretty sure a crash was imminent. Taking a steadying breath, she raised her fist and knocked on the property manager’s door.

What followed in short succession were a few bangs, a crash, a curse word, and a very scraggly Clint Barton stared at her in his housecoat.

“What the hell are you doing here? And at this hour?” Clint Barton groused, voice rough with sleep (or lack thereof).

Between the tousled hair, black eye and the apparent hickey on his neck, Darcy was about ready to call it a loss and head home. But Clint seemed to soften as he looked her up and down like he was still trying to piece it together.

But whatever it was, he could see it wasn’t good.

“Come on in, gate crasher,” he muttered, a tiny bit less bitter than his former greeting. Though he couldn’t say he hadn’t already been up, considering the still-steaming mug of coffee in his grasp as he opened the door wider for her to slip in. “What happened?”

Darcy waited until the door was securely locked behind them before she threw herself onto his weathered couch and cradled a pillow against her chest.

“Oh, you know, just embarrassing myself enough to consider changing my name and moving ‘cross country,” Darcy muttered, reaching over to eagerly scratch a very excited Lucky between his ears.

Barton might have assumed she’d come to him for comfort, but Lucky was the real draw.

“Oh. Is that all?” Clint said, not a hint of surprise in his tone as he took the sitting chair across from her. “Y’wanna talk about it?”

Boy, did she. Darcy spent the next ten minutes unloading the whole saga onto him while making them a fresh pot of coffee. She watched him cringe along with her as he ground the beans, shaking his head in disbelief as she described the worst part: the voicemail. He even stopped mid-pour to made sure it didn’t spill over as his jaw hung open.

“That’s, uh….”

He couldn’t even hide the secondhand embarrassment in his tone, couldn’t shove it behind some flowery saying that would make her feel better about the whole thing. The more she talked about it, the more Darcy realized tonight’s— or rather, this morning’s saga would be offering her countless sleepless nights left to come.

Darcy hung her head in her hands, phone to her ear, hunched over a two-bite brownie Clint thought would make her feel better, but now, she could barely taste. She tossed her plate onto the coffee table and groaned, “God, what was I even thinking sticking my neck out like that? I should just stick to Lucky-sitting. It’s so much easier. Go for a walk, split a pizza, marathon The X Files.”

“No wonder Lucky’s been having nightmares,” Clint responded a little too quickly and a ton too seriously.

“He loves the X-Files,” Darcy frowned, sitting up slightly.

Somehow Clint looked even more tired than he usually did, “No. Not because of The X-Files. The pizza, you idiot. The dog gets heartburn and keeps me up all night.”

Lucky seemed to shoot Darcy a sad look from the floor in front of her couch.

She offered him a lopsided smile and some chin rubs as she crooned, “Sorry, boy.”

Clint grabbed both of their drained coffee mugs and plates and set them in the dishwasher. Leaning against the counter, he chuckled at her sad attempt to hide a yawn behind her fist.

“You going to crash? I can get the couch made up for you?”

It had helped settle her racing heart for a while, the friendly gesture and the commiserating and the doting dog. But with every minute that ticked down, one minute closer to Monday morning, Darcy’s heart quickened its pace.

Maybe she wasn’t made for this— perhaps it would be better for her to transition to academia. Probably even safer, unless she was with Jane. Jane was definitely an anomaly magnet, and Darcy wasn’t about to let that rub off on her more than it already had.

Maybe it would be good for her to try something new— see more of the world.

“No, I… I’m going to head back to the Tower,” Darcy said, trying to get her second wind to kick in for one last walk home.

“I can take you—?” Clint started, wrenching himself off the couch and getting to his feet. Honestly, the fatherly concern on his face almost made her change her mind.

“No,” Darcy assured him with a shake of her head. “I could use the walk.”

Because between here and the office, she’d have to decide whether or not she was going to stay in New York City.

By that time, Bucky Barnes was finally waking up to Alpine’s whining. His mind was still processing the morning’s events as he hopped into the shower, grumbling to himself about the water pressure as he got ready to start the day. The next stop would be the Tower to meet with Nat and Clint for debrief.

But something about remembering the day’s schedule triggered another memory.

Darcy’s last words rattled around his head in her smallest voice, “Oh, and whatever you do, please don’t check your voicemail.”

He thought about letting it go, like he had initially, and brushing it off as a joke, but then there was that part line she’d thrown in just before she’d practically run out the door.

“I’ll put in a transfer request on Monday.”

That was a joke, right?

Looking back now, with a couple more hours of sleep in him, Bucky wasn’t so sure. And that voicemail icon in the upper-left kept catching his eye as he turned on his phone to check the time.

One listen wouldn’t hurt, right?

“Hi, um, Darcy here. I hope your mission went well. I uh, don’t want to alarm you, but I can’t find Alpine right now—”

His stomach twisted into knots at how frantic she sounded, and judging by the timestamp on the message, she definitely hadn’t had much sleep. But it was the last bit that sent his heart racing into his throat.

“And I really don’t want you to hate me, even if your ‘disappointed in me’ face is kind of adorable, and I have a huge crush on you, but— wait, no, shit. Let me—”

“End of new messages. To erase this message—”

Bucky tapped seven, deleting the message before hanging up.

Shit. Why did tonight have to go so wrong? There went his idea of making breakfast, of learning more of her on steady ground. No, instead, his cat had managed to chase her out with one of his nights out galavanting.

He shot a glare to the furry white lump curled into his duvet.

“Of all the nights to play Houdini, Alp, tonight had to be it, huh?”

The panic at the end of her ramble was far from the dejected tone she’d had when she slipped out of his apartment after— probably when Darcy realized what she’d admitted. And if he’d had any idea that was how she felt, that she was interested in him at all, he wouldn’t have been so roundabout in asking her over— wouldn’t have had to look for an excuse to share a meal.

Maybe this was more his fault than he’d realized.

Bucky might have rushed himself out the door, outwardly intent on getting coffee that hadn’t been sitting around for hours already at the office.

But a part of him wanted to keep an eye on the HR floor.

After all, he didn’t want Darcy Lewis to leave the state on his or his asshole cat’s account.

Chapter Text

“Look what the cat dragged in,” Clint crooned from the expensive office chair in the far corner.

Speaking of.

Bucky could only rub the back of his neck awkwardly, offering a grimace as Natasha barely looked at the pair. “Uh, hi?”

“So, did you plan on scaring the living daylights out of the poor kid, or was that just a fun little side effect?”

“I swear it completely slipped my mind! I didn’t even think to tell her she does it every time I’m over there,” Bucky groaned, realizing this was less of a debrief and more of an investigation. He especially didn’t like how quiet Natasha was being. “She’ll get over it, right?”

Maybe he imagined it, but a cold chill seemed to whip past him in response.

“Honestly, your guess is as good as mine,” Clint asked, voice flat, eyes tired. “Darcy Lewis kind of plays by her own rules. Why did you ask her over anyway? It’s not like Alpine really needed babysitting.”

Before Bucky could even get the chance to answer, another voice finally decided to chime in from across the meeting room.

“Because he’s an idiot,” Natasha murmured in Russian, red hair and a flash of teeth catching his eyes. She pushed out of her seat in the next breath, crossing the room to swipe her shoulder across his with a tersely put, “You better not break her heart, Barnes.”

Well, that was an unexpected turn of events.

She settled into a chair by the door, crossing her legs while she awaited his response— no, his oath.

“I-I wouldn’t,” Bucky fumbled, slow on the uptake and taken aback. It wasn’t like him to feel like he was on the defensive.

It was rare for Natasha to be protective of anyone aside from Clint. Bucky had always assumed it was mainly because Barton lacked any sense of self-preservation, so someone would have to do it for him. But somewhere deep, deep down, he knew Nat had a heart.

It was interesting that Darcy, of all people, had managed to breach it.

Clint’s head swivelled between the pair— likely judging who which of the two was bluffing. Bucky knew Barton wasn’t quite as dumb as he pretended to be.

Most of the time.

Natasha harrumphed, eyeing Bucky like she was looking for some sort of tell. “Good.”

Clint’s posture seemed to soften, like he wasn’t about to fight for Darcy’s honour at a moment’s notice. How had he never realized the trio were clearly as intertwined as they were? Sure, the pair were spies, and he and Darcy weren’t on daily speaking terms or anything, but this kind of bonding wasn’t forged overnight.

Bucky added it to his mental checklist, which was becoming impossibly long when it came to Darcy Lewis.

First up: how the hell was he going to try to make up this disaster of a weekend?

“I was going to take her out to lunch, to apologize,” Bucky offered into the resulting awkward silence, trying to both convince himself and the others that it would even be the beginning of enough.

But Natasha’s eyes narrowed, “You shouldn’t do that unless it means something, James.”

Oh, first names now. Nat definitely had a soft spot for the girl.

Maybe they’d bonded in that New Mexico operation? He’d heard a story or two, mainly from a shockingly jubilant Thor, but perhaps there had been more to that story. Though, he was pretty sure Natasha wasn’t on that mission…

“Nat’s right.”

Bucky’s gaze snapped to Clint’s, eyes deadly serious. There was a flame there, and Bucky could see how much the archer cared for Darcy too.

“It means something,” Bucky said finally, clearing his throat. “I’m not screwing around.”

After trading choice glances with Nat, Clint clapped a heavy hand on his shoulder as if in warning. “Y’better not be.”

An hour and a half later, Natasha breezed out of the meeting room and down the hall for an urgent page. Clint hung back with Bucky, which allowed him to finally ask.

“Listen, about Darcy,” Bucky started, avoiding Clint’s eyes. That guilt still weighed heavy in his stomach. “When she left this morning, she mentioned something about putting in her two weeks’ notice… I mean, you’d know her better than me. She was kidding, right?”

Leaning in the doorframe, Clint considered it, chewing it over like he was assessing the situation.

“Kid does have the occasional hint for the dramatic,” Clint murmured. “But honestly, I think she’ll be fine by Monday. Give her some time to cool off.”

Bucky didn’t have the heart to tell him he wasn’t so sure about that, but they both parted ways at the door with a curt nod. Just as he was turning towards the elevator bay to drive back home, he spotted a flash of red lips and dark hair in the corner of his eyes in the lobby—

Darcy?

“But it’s Saturday…” he murmured to himself, brows knitting together as his feet changed course on their own, following her a few yards back.

There was no way she was putting in for a transfer now, right?

Darcy Lewis was a woman on a mission, practically flying through the halls of Stark Tower.

She started to wonder if that floaty feeling was the lack of sleep kicking in, but Darcy was hellbent on seeing this out. In fact, she’d made up her mind halfway through her shower. Sure, it was a little longer than her hour-long commute home— which had been half her taking the scenic route, while the other half was firmly in MTA’s hands. Regardless, Darcy was determined.

She’d had a shower and a cup of coffee, and she knew what she needed to do, so all that was left was to find—

“So, is it true?”

Darcy whirled around on her heel, her heart hammering as her wide eyes spotted Bucky Barnes leaning against the wall behind her.

Great. He was probably the last person she wanted to run into right now, so of course, the universe had stuck them together for one final embarrassing blow. At this rate, she’d have to move out of state and change her name.

But at least she had an answer to his question at the ready.

“That I’m a complete and total idiot? Seems pretty obvious by now,” Darcy muttered.

She was having a hard time turning her back and walking away from him, even if her head was telling her she should. Places to be, people to see, coworkers to commiserate with… And yet, Darcy felt like she was stuck in place, ears pulsing as she waited for his answer.

Bucky shook his head, “That you had a crush on me?”

Her stomach dropped.

God, this was really happening, was it? Just how much more mortifying could this whole situation get? Maybe she’d need to request a space mission to get clear of the absolute mess she’d found herself in.

Running on empty, Darcy had started to convince herself this was all some crazy realistic waking nightmare— some classic sitcom Truman Show scenario. She was the punchline in this scenario, of course.

Except, instead of a laugh track in the background, it was her own whirring thoughts.

“You listened to the voicemails?” she breathed before scrubbing her face with her hands. A strangled cry bubbled up from her lips as Bucky awkwardly nodded, her face screwing up as she groaned, “Oh my god. I’m never going to live this down. I’m just going to go move to the Netherlands or something—”

Darcy stopped mid-ramble at the heavy hand that gently grasped her shoulder. She followed it up to Bucky’s pleading blue eyes.

“Please don’t,” he murmured. “Not on my account.”

Brows furrowed as she searched his face for any hint of doubt, an ounce of resentment for the exciting morning, or the crack of a smile as he realized she’d been a little dramatic.

Instead, all she found was concern scrawled across his blue eyes, waiting for her assurance.

“Oh.”

The rigidity, the fear that had been built up as her only defence, seemed to melt away with that earnest look on his face. It was the only thing that convinced her he was serious. Now, whether or not it was driven by guilt, but her red, probably puffy (and incredibly embarrassed) expression had yet to be seen.

But Darcy sniffed away the frustrated tears threatening and steeled her expression to something closer to a watery smile. “Thanks,” she whispered, not really knowing what else to say.

Between her exhaustion and the drama of the day, she was still having a hard time believing this was real life. Her face creased in confusion, which Bucky seemed to sense as he continued on.

“I really am sorry for not telling you sooner that Alpine is, well… an outdoor cat,” Bucky offered, looking amused at the expression.

Darcy couldn’t help but chuckle, if only at his insistence at trying to cheer her up.

“I swear I didn’t mean to give you any greys,” he added sincerely, and she realized just how exhausted he looked too. His blue eyes were wrung red as he continued a little quieter, “Or make you forfeit your job or anything.”

Darcy gaped, and a pang of guilt shot through her gut for making him feel worse than he needed to. Shifting her weight from foot to foot, she crossed her arms over her chest and decided to tell him the truth.

“I uh— Full disclosure, I wasn’t actually going to quit,” Darcy hurried to explain, slipping on a sheepish grin. Not that she hadn’t given it a lot of thought. “I was actually just going to spill my guts to Natasha to make myself feel better. She has a pretty sweet vodka stash in her office— but I’m sure you knew that.”

But Bucky didn’t back down, offering without missing a beat, “Spill them to me instead.”

“What?”

There was no way she heard that right. No, Darcy Lewis was definitely sleepwalking— lucid dreaming? Something along those lines.

“I’ll even throw in some booze for good measure,” he added, evidently ignoring the panic in her tone as he chuckled. “Because yeah, I know how good her stash is.”

Her eyes narrowed, “You’re serious?”

Bucky chuckled, “Listen, I know it wasn’t even a paying gig, and Alp kind of gave you a hard time, so… can I at least take you to dinner?”

Darcy’s jaw practically hit the floor. Was he always this nice? Had she just never looked behind the slightly tormented and brooding facade he put up to shove people away? Or did she just look awful enough to warrant a thick layer of sympathy?

“I nearly lost your cat and left an uber embarrassing voicemail. Uh, I owe you after the kind of morning you’ve had, if anything,” Darcy said with a shake of her head. “I can’t accept that.”

“My cat was— is a total asshole, and now I feel like one too,” Bucky clarified. “Please, just let me make it up to you somehow.”

After a few beats of judging his expression, making sure he wasn’t offering for the sake of being friendly, Darcy hummed. That playful glimmer returned to her face as an idea sparked.

If he really wanted to make it up to her, maybe she should see just how far she could push it.

“On a scale of caviar to french fries, how bad do you feel about it?”

Bucky huffed a laugh, relief washing over his features, though she didn’t quite understand it— his concern with her being employed at all. It couldn’t be that finding a cat sitter was that hard. And there was no way Bucky Barnes was that invested in her— cat sitter and glorified science crony that she was.

But she wasn’t about to say no to free food, especially since this morning’s scare had easily shaved a year off her life. So she was glad when Bucky smiled.

“How about steak?” he replied with a flash of teeth.

Her heart skipped a beat, eyes zeroing in on the dimple his smile revealed. All she could wonder, amid the thumping in her chest and the floaty, dream-like feeling, was: Who the hell was this guy and how the hell was he still single?

She cleared her throat and tried to cover her flub with a joke, “Sounds pretty guilty to me.”

“The guiltiest,” Bucky shot back, making Darcy’s heart speed up even faster. “C’mon, let me take you out. I wouldn’t be able to live with myself otherwise.”

Was he flirting with her?

“Well, we can’t have that, now can we?” Darcy breathed, eyes locked on his.

In all of her time at SHIELD, she’d never seen this side of James Buchanan Barnes. But suddenly, she wanted to know everything about him. Darcy wondered how much she could get out of him over a meal.

“No, probably not,” he agreed just as softly. “How’s your Friday night looking?”

God, this was totally flirting, right? She tried to push away the heat threatening to cross her cheeks.

No— no. Stop. Halt. Do not pass GO. Do not collect $200.

She was definitely drifting into dreamland territory. There was no way that was what she meant. Straightening up, Darcy tried to set herself straight as she realized her reply was a couple beats too late.

“Uh— fine! Clear. Totally clear,” she managed to fumble. “Seven?”

A grin stretched across his lips, “It’s a date.”

Darcy was still sure her sleep-deprived brain was playing tricks on her as she turned on her heel, bewildered as she nodded to herself in reply.

There was no way he just said date, right?

Right?

Chapter Text

If nothing else, Bucky Barnes was a man of his word.

Throughout the week, he’d found the restaurant, made the reservation, and even sent a few texts back and forth with Darcy that were more than three words. Which, maybe in hindsight, didn’t seem like much, but it was more effort than he put into something other than work, Alp and his friends on the team.

“You doin’ alright in here, pal?”

Steve Rogers, on the other hand, had a tendency to stick his nose where it didn’t belong. Specifically here, in his apartment, while Bucky was trying to get ready, when Steve had his own place down the hall. Being nosey was a defining characteristic for Rogers, as far as he was concerned.

But out of all of the Avengers, Bucky had known Steve the longest, so maybe he’d earned a couple potshots along the way.

“Peachy,” Bucky grumbled, flinging another shirt across the room into his impromptu reject pile.

“You’d think this was all for a date and not an apology dinner,” Steve mused, earning a half-heartedly thump in the shoulder from Bucky’s closed fist.

Bucky sighed, “I might’a called it a date.”

Steve’s eyebrows flew to his hairline. “And is that accurate?”

“I’d like it to be,” Bucky grumbled, not needing the wide eyes and the smirk setting in on his friend’s face.

Steve clapped one last comforting hand on his shoulder and smiled, “It’ll be fine, Buck. If you’re even half the ladies’ man you were back in our time, it’ll be just fine.”

But Bucky wondered if he was as Steve waltzed back into the hall towards his own apartment on the same floor. That last go, ill-planned and poorly-communicated, might have shaken his confidence a little.

After rifling through his closet for a decent shirt and pair of slacks, he took a car to his favourite steakhouse and holed up at a table in the back room. Alone with his thoughts, he was suddenly thankful he had a minute to breathe, wiping his clammy hand against his pant leg.

It was actually to his benefit that she’d thrown the location ball in his court, that he got to choose the restaurant. Not just because it was a place he was comfortable with, but because he knew enough about Darcy to know she would have chosen the cheapest spot on the list after what’d happened last week.

What was with him and attracting martyrs? Bucky clearly had a type.

“Reservation for Barnes?” he told the hostess at the podium an hour later, amidst the buzz and chatter of the restaurant. She quickly led him to the table in the back corner— a special request and the best vantage point in the place.

Some habits died hard.

Still, his leg bounced under the table as he waited for Darcy, hoping it would be a little less disastrous than his first attempt. Barton and Nat might’ve had a chat with him earlier in the day, and he could practically feel the figurative shotgun (with several literal weapons stored nearby) between them. They still hadn’t let go of the fact he’d given her a heart attack and were still making threats if he dared to ‘lead her on.’

So, needless to say, he was a little nervous about screwing this up.

He wouldn’t have known that she’d asked Jane to do her eyeliner because her hands were shaking, and she couldn’t get them even enough. Or that she’d vetoed three dresses because she was worried about potential sweat stains. All he could see was the vision of loose dark waves and that bright red, gap-toothed smile practically beaming at him.

“Darcy,” he greeted, mirroring her grin.

Darcy Lewis was already sweating.

It had started in the ride over, desperately trying to smooth her hair down in the backseat as she prayed Manhattan traffic didn’t get in the way of the closest thing she’d had to a date in months. She’d never bolted out of a cab faster than she did, rushing to the podium and sneakily asking the hostess how long he’d been there.

“Only about ten minutes,” she answered politely. “Which means you’re basically on time.”

But all of that worry melted away as he said her name.

“Darcy.”

His long hair was pulled back into an effortless bun, and he probably could have passed for any New York hipster, but that smile, that hint of mischief, was all Bucky Barnes.

“Hi,” she said shyly, feeling the heat in her face as she took him in. “Nice place you chose.”

Bucky pulled out a chair for her, standing behind it as she sat down. She was ready to chalk it up to old-school values before he managed to whisper in her ear as he tucked her in.

“You look amazing.”

It was like all the words dropped out of her head, including all of her usual snarky comebacks, as she sputtered a response, “Uh— you d-don’t look so bad yourself?”

Bucky looked pretty pleased with himself, eyeing his handiwork— the blush that quickly crept up into her ears— as he sat back down.

She’d always assumed he was pretty walled off from the non-Avengers of the Tower. Bucky was rarely seen beyond the training floor and never attended staff functions, but those things could be chalked up to being uncomfortable in crowds or with unwanted attention.

And their first dinner was just that: a heaping spoonful of apology.

So the mystery remained, at least in Darcy’s head. Why was he giving her, the woman who’s freaked out over (and nearly lost) his cat, the time of day?

“Thanks again for letting me take you out,” Bucky started, putting his napkin back in his seat. He somehow looked a little more worn now than he had the morning he’d come back from his mission, the years etched on his face. “Well, for coming at all.”

“Did you think I wouldn’t?”

“I wouldn’t have blamed if you if you decided to stand me up,” Bucky admitted with a shrug.

“Well, I never say no to a free meal,” Darcy said with a hint of a smile that cut through the tension. “Grad school taught me that much.”

That managed to get a laugh out of him, the kind that crinkled the corners of his eyes and flashed his perfect smile that made her heart skip a beat. If anything, it spurred her on to try to get a few more out of him before the night was through.

“So, I bet you’ll be thinking twice before asking coworkers to cat-sit any time soon, huh?” Darcy started with a bashful grin.

“Oh, I don’t usually ask coworkers.”

“Oh.”

Was he trying to let her down easy? Make it seem like it wasn’t her fault if he had to outsource a replacement?

She tried not to sound too perplexed but evidently failed, judging by the shake of his head and the raise of his brow. Bucky practically snorted, incredulous that Darcy was missing something that he thought— no, worried— had been obvious all along.

“I didn’t trust you because you were a coworker, Darcy.”

Her eyebrows screwed up in confusion, harsh lines marring her face. “Huh?”

“Hell, I don’t even trust Barton in my place overnight.”

This was getting more confusing by the minute, her heart racing as Bucky shook his head and chuckled, clearly more at himself than Darcy.

“I like you, Darcy,” he said, more earnestly than she’d ever seen him before. He waited a beat, and when the words continued to elude her, he added with a playful smile, “Did you honestly think I just let anyone into my place?”

“W-well, no?” Darcy floundered, her mouth suddenly feeling like it was filled with marbles.

She hadn’t exactly expected to be on her back foot like this.

Bucky reached across the table, sitting his hand palm up just across the middle of the table. “No pressure,” he assured. “But I asked you out tonight because I was hoping it’d be more of a date than an apology. I uh, I guess I could have led with that or something, but, well….”

The ball was in her court now, as Bucky nervously rubbed the back of his neck and his blue eyes sparkled down at her from across the table. Darcy didn’t even have the wherewithal to ask herself— never mind him— how the hell she’d manage to get into this situation.

How the disaster of a night could have led to an Avenger admitting his feelings for her.

No. All Darcy could manage to do was what she did best: Accepting whatever the universe gave her with a smile, a silent thanks and a gap-toothed grin.

“I guess there’s time to work on communication,” she joked, twining her fingers with his and feeling the warmth envelop her. His lopsided smile sent her stomach into somersaults, and she couldn’t help but squeeze his hand a little.

“We’ve got all the time in the world, doll.”

And just like that, all the worry on both sides of the table seemed to melt away.

Epilogue

A couple dozen Fridays later, like they often were, Bucky and Darcy were holed up on his couch for an impromptu movie marathon. She liked these kinds of Friday nights best, celebrating the calm before the next inevitable cataclysmic storm.

Such was Avengers life, after all.

Alpine snuggled between them as they traded the popcorn bowl across their shared blanket. They’d made up in the weeks that followed their tumultuous introduction. This mainly meant that they had an understanding: Alpine would continue to do Alpine things, and Darcy would just accept the fact that she’d never figure out just how the cat managed to escape in the first place.

Everyone deserved a secret or two, after all— even cats.

And she sort of considered that growth, letting go of all the little quirks and mysteries that happened under her own roof, which honestly mostly centred around the cat. If her relationship with Bucky had proven anything, it was that Darcy could go with the flow. Even if it had taken a mild breakdown to figure that out.

“I was thinking, maybe we could make this a regular thing,” Bucky broached, stretching his arm a little before it settled back down around her shoulder.

In fact, on second thought, she was probably the most ‘go with flow’ person she knew. Aliens, cataclysmic disasters, and the end of the world had all landed in her lap at some point, and she’d survived.

Ruffled but relatively unscathed. Darcy was pretty sure she could handle a super soldier and an escape artist cat at this point in her life.

Darcy grinned, “You’re asking to go steady with me, Mister Barnes?”

But nothing truly prepared one for dating a superhero (even if Bucky loathed the title). Between the odd hours, the cat-sitting gigs that went from days to weeks sometimes, and the dates that kept getting pushed off in favour of saving said world, it was a lot of adjustment.

“Well, yeah, see each other, or whatever the phrase is these days,” Bucky explained, a mischievous lilt tacked on at the end. “And maybe move in… since you’re looking for a place anyway.”

Darcy’s heart raced as his blue eyes shone back at her, lit by only the TV screen.

“You want to move in with your former cat sitter?”

“You’re a lot more than just a cat-sitter, Darcy Lewis,” Bucky all but chided, pressing a kiss to her temple. “But, no pressure. I know your lease is up soon, and Jane’s off to god knows where, and you kept mentioning you’re sick of Tower life… so, the offer’s open. That is if you’re willing to stoop down to my level?”

“Your level, huh?” she shot back with a twinkle in her eye. “We’ll just have to lay down some ground rules,” Darcy said, playfully jabbing her finger into his chest.

“Oh really?” Bucky challenged with a grin. “Like what? No more cat care-taking?”

“Ha ha,” Darcy deadpanned with a huff. She reached down to ruffle the white furball who shot her a sleepy dirty look, “No, I think I’m good with that now. Alpine and I have… reached an understanding.”

Bucky huffed a laugh, not lowering his eyebrows. She knew he didn’t believe her, but Alpine and Darcy’s relationship was on the mend.

“Then what kinda terms are we talkin’ about?”

“Promise not to laugh?” Bucky nodded, and she continued, “No plant sitting.”

The sound that came out of Bucky’s mouth was halfway between a wheeze and a snort as he squeaked out, “You killed Nat’s orchids again, didn’t you?”

Darcy groaned, covering her face with her hands in shame. “It’s not my fault.”

“It’s OK, babe. We can go pick up a new one to replace it,” Bucky soothed, wrapping his arms around her and pulling her tight against his chest.

“Promise?”

“Promise. I love you,” he assured, offering a sweet smile.

“I love you, too,” Darcy smiled back as he reached for her hand and pressed a kiss to the back of it.

Never one to waste a sweet moment, Bucky added against her skin with a glint, “Little black thumbs and all.”

Darcy couldn’t quite push back the outraged smile that crept in as she slapped his chest.

“Jerk.”