Chapter Text
The Dark Horse Contender
The problem with working for S.H.I.E.L.D. was that there weren’t a great many hours for socialising with people you didn’t already know from work.
The problem with being seconded to the Avengers Initiative was that the team was irreducibly blokey.
It meant that when your traitorous! boss got hold of your medical records and casually mentioned at the Monday morning briefing that: “Oh, and Agent Lewis is temporarily off active duty due to her pregnancy” the stunned silence included every male in the room covertly checking each other out for signs of a guilty conscience.
At last, Captain Steven Rogers spoke: “Congratulations, Darcy!” he said brightly. “Er… who else should we be congratulating?”
Darcy looked demurely at the table. “I’m afraid that information is classified, Captain. I could tell you, but then I’d have to kill you.”
***
As they left the briefing room, Tony Stark was chortling. “Oh, this is great! This is fantastic. Fantabulastic!”
Steve looked at him uncertainly. “You don’t mean…? But you and Pepper? Uh, I mean – congratulations!”
“What? Huh? No! I found out by accident two weeks ago. You do not want to know what she threatened me with if I spilled the beans. And the curiousity…” Tony grabbed Captain America’s t‑shirt with both hands and shook him. “It burns, man. It burns.”
“Oh, right,” Steve’s face cleared. “But who is the… lucky fellow?”
“Heck if I know! You?”
Steve shook his head.
“What’s the matter, Capsicle? You planning a shotgun wedding?”
He drew himself up with dignity. “No. I know people do things differently now. But Darcy is our team member, and also our friend. She shouldn’t be left… unsupported.”
“And damn her eyes for being so close mouthed.”
“This fellow should know that she’s not without allies and friends.”
“People have needs… Gossipy needs.”
“He should know that he has to do his duty by Miss Lewis, however she wants to define that duty.”
Tony raised his face to the air, as if detecting a far off scent. “The game is afoot!”
***
“So, Bruce,” Tony said airily, swanning into the lab. “You’re fond of Darcy.”
Bruce looked up from his monitor. “I am.”
“Very fond would you say? Perhaps with a bit of a thing going on?”
Bruce carefully took off his glasses and cleaned them with his handkerchief.
“I could say very fond. So fond that I would be upset if I thought someone were trifling with her feelings.”
“Upset, you say?”
“Very upset.”
“I think we’re done here.” Tony hustled Steve out of the room.
***
Barton was in the firing range, training.
“What’s up, Steve? Tony?” he grunted, selecting another arrow.
“Hawkeye! So… you’re not exactly the kind of guy who would fire blanks, are you?”
Barton raised his aim slightly. The arrow ricocheted off a light fitting and rammed home, inches between Tony and Steve’s faces.
“Maybe not!”
***
They walked down the corridor, Tony deep in thought. He raised a hand: “Thor is a total stud muffin. (What?! I have eyes!) Maybe he and Jane and Darcy have a…”
Steve opened the door to Jane’s lab, then backed out slowly and closed the door carefully. He shook his head.
***
“Agent Coulson!” Tony slapped his hand jovially on the agent’s desk. “You and your assistant! All those long, tiring, paperworking hours. An office with a door that locks. Perhaps a spot of hero worship…?”
Coulson raised his eyebrows. “Mr Stark, S.H.I.E.L.D. fraternisation regulations have very clear rulings regarding reporting lines. I’ve provided a copy for your edification. And one for you, too, Captain Rogers.”
Just then, Steve’s and Tony’s cell phones beeped together. Steve glanced at his message and flushed. “I think we’re done. Sorry for taking up your time, Agent.”
As they walked away, Tony at last looked a little sheepish. “But I still want to know. Who is this dark horse contender? Who could it be? Who?”
***
Darcy Lewis was having a horrible day. Super secret spy organisation with need-to-know security? Hah! The pack of them gossiped like old women.
By eleven, when she got back from the Avengers’ team meeting, the female agents she shared an office with had gotten together a gift basket for her.
By noon, there was a paternity sweepstake pinned up in the break room. She tore it down and stuffed it in the shredder. Unfortunately she glanced at some of the names first. “Loki? Magneto? Eeeeeeuw. You guys are gross.”
By one, a hand written, hand delivered congratulations card had arrived from Director Fury. She was never going to live that down.
At two, Natasha gave her a heads up that the Boy Detectives were on the trail. She texted the pair of them: What, are you five? My vengeance will be _way_ more than 12% of terrible.
At three, the family grapevine finally caught up and she had a long phone call with her mother.
At four, she stormed into her boss’ office.
“You low down son of a… thing. You outed me!”
Coulson settled back in his chair. “Agent Lewis, the details of your personal life are your own responsibility; workplace health and safety is mine.”
“You… This is revenge, isn’t it? You’re miffed that I didn’t tell you first!”
“Lewis, I do not get… ‘miffed’.”
She stared at him for a long moment. “Gah!”
By five, she was slumped at her desk sorting the gifts – offerings – left there into piles of cool-and-keepable and weird-and-disposable. An Avengers onesie, Lego, an Ironman ‘hug-me’ doll (hah!), a children's book titled Go The Fuck To Sleep… an infant sized set of knuckle dusters?
At five thirty, Agent Sitwell blew in, fresh from the month long mission he’d been working overseas. He, too, brought offerings – two steaming takeout cups. “So…” he hitched one hip on to her desk, and put one of the cups within easy reach. “There’s this rumour going around the office?”
Darcy reached for the cup, peeled off the lid and sniffed it dubiously. Not-coffee. In fact, a chai latte, rich with cinnamon and ginger that settled her stomach for the first time that day. “Yeah. Um. Jasper, I think we need to talk…”