Work Text:
Your recipient: kellifer_fic
What they are looking for:
Fic please!
Favorite characters/pairings: Steve/Tony, Clint/Coulson, Clint/Darcy, Steve/Darcy
Characters/pairings I absolutely do not want: Nick/anyone
Preferred ratings: Anything
Favorite kinks/tropes: AU, apocafic, canon
Kinks/tropes I absolutely do not want: mpreg, noncon/dubcon, PWP, bodily fluids being used in a sexy way that were never meant for sexy times
Prompts:
- Domestic fic - Avengers doing day to day things
- Apocafic (zombie, plague, whatever takes your fancy)
- Avengers as mutants and Nick Fury is running a school for wayward super beings.
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Darcy: Superhero in training… Part I…
Beep- Beep- Ring- Ring- the familiar sound of Loverboy’s Workin’ For the Weekend started playing. She might have laughed at the ‘lameness’ of the song if not for the fact that she was half asleep.
There was something sticky on her hands. It was cold but not hideously so, it was more of a cold feeling you would get from playing with your food…
Darcy sat up groggily and turned off her cellphone’s reminder. Then she realized that her right hand had been in a bowl of melted cheese and rice. Her clutch since there was no Ben & Jerry’s in her hotel room. Lesson 1: Never order room service again.
She groaned and sprinted to the bathroom.
“So Gross,” she shrieked not caring that she was talking to herself.
First time in the Big Apple and she was all alone. Erik had been here but he applied for a transfer almost right away following whatever kind of funeral they threw for Agent Coulson. Jane was— well she had no idea anymore. Darcy had turned a corner graduating college, set free to roam the wild.
Her corner ironically led right back to where she started, in SHIELD’s direct line of vision.
Now she was heading to a job with no idea what she was going to do or where she was going to live (just graduated college— no fucking money or savings). All she knew was S.H.I.E.L.D. now owned her ass. With no explanation given it was: “Miss Lewis be here on the 11th at 9am.”
Personally she was hoping to be assigned to the science lab, okay what she knew about science basically started and ended at Newton’s Laws of Motion but hey that counted right? Worked with Jane anyway. In her dreams however Darcy was a superhero.
Like the Avengers or she was Agent Lewis, bad ass mother fucker.
Whichever seemed more plausible. She may or may not have (there is no not, it really happened) purchased a custom made Avengers un-offical avengers jersey with her fake superhero name on it. There had yet to be an official one made since no quite knew who owned the Avengers trademark.
In reality, the idea of her being something serious like an Agent was hysterical. Who the hell would trust Darcy Lewis with a gun? Her observation skills went as far as sticking her hand in melted cheese and rice.
Several hand washings, a shower and a dip in the pool later, Darcy was ready to get dressed and head to the address emailed to her.
Two subway rides (she totally took the wrong train the first go) later, she found herself standing outside of a huge Tower.
“Somehow I don’t this is SHEILD’S secret base,” she muttered looking around. There was Grand Central Station… in plain view. Why the fuck was she anywhere near Grand Central Station, who had this kind of life?! She was a kid from nowhereville, USA and this in itself was insane (being in New York that is).
She rang the doorbell on the locked front glass doors. Odd that a tower of public space (presumably) had locked front doors.
“Can I help you?” a voice asked.
Darcy jumped and looked around, besides the gawkers at the cafe down the street there was no one in sight.
“Can I help you?” the voice repeated as if it was unaware she had heard it.
Darcy flinched and smoothed out her dress pants not that helped she still looked startled but apparently she was either crazy and hearing British guys voice in her head (perhaps she had too much of a crush on Robert Pattinson— maybe) or there was a British guy somewhere and she was temporarily blind (and he obviously thought she was deaf).
“I’m lost in a big city with no sense of direction, no map, and faulty GPS navigator apparently. Also, I should probably go find a police officer and tell him I’ve lost my mommy too,” she said sarcastically.
Not exactly her finest hour.
“The GPS in your hands is correct. You have reached the intended address on your screen,” he informed her.
Darcy looked down at her GPS saying it reached her destination and then looked back up again, “Are you inside my head? Have I lost my marbles? I mean I know I didn’t get Starbucks this morning like I said I would but you know what? Starbucks is expense in New Mexico— in New York it’s probably like buying an entire supply of coffee in New Mexico after sales tax. Not that I know this for sure but really taxes- big city- no brainer dude.”
“I am JARVIS— human-cyborg relations.”
Darcy snorted, “Nice Star Wars reference, JARVIS. So you’re what a computer, a video camera?”
“I am the voice of God,” he replied after a beat, “I am artificially intelligent miss.”
“Creepy. So who programmed those funny answers for you to say?”
“Not programmed. Sir gave me sarcasm. Google gave me information on computer humor.”
“So you spied my GPS and know I’m in fact not lost?” she asked innocently though internally Darcy was so amused she wanted to play twenty questions with it. Make it her new magic 8-ball.
“You are at Stark’s Tower which I believe according to your GPS was your intended destination. Now Miss, how may I help you?” it inquired.
“You know anyone from SHIELD named Agent Hill?”
The door opened.
Okay so maybe she wasn’t lost.
“Well Miss Lewis, Agent Hill is waiting on the 29th floor.”
“Oh shit— creepy and awesome,” she said in awe. Maybe she should have gotten that Starbucks after all. But that pool was just so nice.
When she arrived there was a conference table, a video conference device, and a brown haired woman sitting at the table.
“You’re late Miss Lewis.”
Darcy checked her cell phone, “By like five minutes which in me time is like twenty minutes early.”
Agent Hill shook her head, “From now on when I say Oh Nine Hundred, I mean oh-nine-hundred.”
Military speak- great.
“Sure,” she said shrugging and sitting down in an empty swivel chair, Darcy had to mentally remind herself not to actually swivel now, “So this a job interview?”
Agent Hill shook her head, “If this was an interview, there would be polygraph and I wouldn’t be here so low level agent would be. You’re going upstairs after we chat and getting straight to work.”
Darcy was confused, “Isn’t there usually some policy of like screening and stuff?”
The agent threw a thick folder on the table, “Done.”
“Creepy,” Darcy muttered to herself, what the fuck had she signed up for? Well not exactly signed up, more like thrown into deep end of the ocean with a brief five second warning.
“Thor has decided that you will be his plants liaison whether we like it or not. It’s the price of keeping peace and making Jane Foster happy. So as of right now, if Thor’s here- so are you. And he’s decided to crash with Tony Stark for the short term. Which means you’ll stay here and do whatever Thor wants you to do and then report back to us,” Maria said standing up.
The Avengers Initiative had bothered her but this was a whole different monster. Hiring a new college grad with no government clearance rubbed her entirely the wrong way but Director Fury while grounded was dead set on making the Avengers happy.
Somehow that translated to offering a kid a job. She would be ready though when his entire plot blew up in their faces.
“So what exactly do I do?” Darcy pressed.
This job basically had come out of nowhere. She had no experience, no qualifications, and zero warning before being told she was being moved to New York. How any of this made a sense she had no idea.
Which meant somehow Jane was behind it. Only Jane could do the impossible and the strange. Well Agent Coulson too but he was dead.
“Agent Coulson seemed to think you were good with cooking and giving advice. Start there,” she suggested cooly before standing up, “Reports are due first of every month assuming there’s no attacks. In the event of a situation, one is due immediately after the battle. A series of files have been emailed to you which will contain information which might be helpful to your position. If you have any questions, you may email Jasper Sitwell, he’ll be taking all of Coulson’s underlings for the time being.”
Darcy blinked before she could even attempt to protest the agent hit the elevator and disappeared.
“Well what am I gonna do now?”
———
Darcy Lewis: confused and extremely bored superhero… Part II…
So that was Day One or doomsday depending on how you looked at it. Darcy Lewis- Agent Babysitter of Avengers. Somehow this ended her fantasy of wearing yellow spandex and looking like a Power Ranger. Alas reality never quite lived up to the dreams of the young and the insane which summed her up perfectly.
Day One continued forth much in a similar fashion (the old wtf is going on thing) where she met Pepper Potts, Happy Hogan and The Avengers. She took a lot of pictures with her phone and spammed the shit out of Facebook.
Somehow she survived Day One but someone should have taken this as a sign. Darcy was a jinx. She was.
It was her that always said to Jane, “Wouldn’t be funny if aliens came out of sky?”
Famous last words.
So naturally when Darcy Lewis met Captain America her first words, “Fuck Me.”
That was probably a sign of bad karma to follow. The speechless look on his face might have told a story if not for the fact that he was bright red and did not seem to be all that scandalized.
Just shocked and amused.
Darcy had no idea what to make of that.
Maybe embarrassing herself in front of a bunch of heroes would teach her a lesson but no, Darcy lived to make these moments stick. Repetitively making a fool of herself since 1989.
—
“Could we at least go for some fondue first?” Steve asked innocently as possible, truthfully he wasn’t feeling all that innocent in that moment.
Tony’s smirk got bigger if at all possible by his response. They had only know each other for about three weeks, it still amazed him that his teammates were convinced he was some kind of Edwardian virtuous poet.
They obviously never lived in 1930’s Brooklyn. Honestly, fuck was a vocabulary word like “Gosh” or “Ma’am”. He was a nice guy but Brooklyn once upon a time was filled with gangsters selling boot leg drinks and the streets were owned by people like Arnold Rothstein, Charles Luciano and Giuseppe Masseria when he was a small kid. Did they really think he was naive?
Darcy laughed, “I feel like I should know the story behind that line but I don’t will accept it for the joke that it apparently is.”
Steve shrugged deciding not to explain if she didn’t know the story of Peggy Carter, “Any time you want a curse word competition, I assure Ma’am, I’ll come out on top.”
“If New York was anything like Boardwalk Empire, I bet it was a fucking party,” Darcy replied.
Steve had no idea what that was but he assumed it was related to the gangs of New York. He had no idea why they were meeting but he really liked this Miss Lewis for if nothing else knowing shit about his personal life.
“The streets are never dull but history over dramatizes events. WWII showed me a great deal of that,” Steve confessed.
“Bitchin’ though anyway,” Darcy offered.
“What is this Boardwalk Empire?” Thor asked her.
“Dude, we need to stream that shit on Netflix or somethin’,” Darcy replied eagerly.
Tony shook his head, “Not just that. Violent 20’s gangster shows anyone? For the sake of history progression, we’ll start there and end with The Sopranos.”
Clint shook his head interjecting loudly, “Nah with Sons of Anarchy man. If we’re going gangster shows, that is the most modern and honestly best out there.”
Natasha rolled her eyes in response, “Says the man that liked Brotherhood.”
“That was a good show,” he protested.
Steve had no idea what any of these shows were. Television in the 1940’s was basically hard to get especially with little money and the war suspended much of its production. Radio cereals were on the decline during the war but had a much larger audience.
He hadn’t even owned a radio.
The movies were more practical but once the war struck almost every film was a war propaganda film. The idea that film or television shows were created with fictional entertainment in mind like the old cereals was still kind of surprising. In his imagination though, he could see himself sitting down with a girl like Darcy in a old fashioned theater sharing a popcorn and watching some old Buster Keaton picture.
Steve bet Darcy would have liked Buster Keaton. He could see her wearing a hairstyle like Peggy’s in the 1940’s in a military uniform laughing along to his silent pictures from the 20s and his later works. Finding Charlie Chaplin brilliant or Leslie Howard.
Absolutely the opposite of Peggy but maybe in a good way.
Shame, chances are nothing would ever happen. Steve would not “date” someone that worked for SHIELD. At least not until he had a reason to trust them more. He had to admit though, she was far better looking than any of the USO girls he toured with, SHIELD knew how to pick their hired hands well.
—
(Day Five: how to fail at being an Agent of SHIELD or a superhero… Part III)
“Video killed the radio star. In my mind and in my car. We can’t rewind we’ve gone too far…” Darcy was trying to sing along to the Buggles old song Video Killed The Radio Star. The truth was her voice was terrible and it was more like she was shouting along to it and probably poorly.
While vacuuming the floor. So far she had not gotten a chance to do anything exciting for the avengers or with them. Barton and Romanov went off on some romantic getaway the day before. Clint had said it was their anniversary.
Pepper had basically forced Tony to make an appearance the office on the West Coast and they were gone.
Thor had managed to keep Jane from doing anything worth note. Doctor Banner had more or less informed her that no help would be required on his behalf.
Darcy was feeling blue, this was supposed to be exciting right? She was reporting to SHIELD like she had a job. She was getting paid. She got to live with superheroes that somehow ended up living together which made little sense to her actually.
There was joke somewhere in here but really the floor was a mess and it more important than figuring out the punchline to the non-existent joke.
She was vacuuming the floor, not exactly the black pinstripe suit and gun she pictured having in her hands. Or the yellow power ranger like costume she pictured herself in saving the world with. Now her dreams had gone from black and white to 2D to 3D color where she was dressed as a yellow Power Ranger, karate chopping bad guys that looked like Loki to the sounds of 1960’s Batman with little “Wham”’s and “Pow”’s flashing across her comic bubble…
Darcy might have watched a ten hour marathon of Batman last night and quite possibly then bought a wonder woman costume for overnight delivery. You know just to test out how it felt to wear spandex.
Maybe. (Definitely.)
“Do you always sing when you clean the floors?” Steve asked walking into the room with a hint of amusement on his face.
Darcy shrieked and dropped the hose attachment, “Shit! Don’t ever do that again.”
“Walk into the room?” he asked dryly.
She was torn between laughing and crying that was if she could stop shaking. God she probably looked silly right now. Like a teenage girl on her period— mood swings galore. Darcy Lewis, easily scared by talking from behind. Super Secret Agent failure.
“I should… you know…. Maybe… remember that I’m not here alone…” she conceded after a minute like she had just lost an argument instead of simply admit to being a scaredy cat.
Steve held up his hands, “Don’t stop on my account. I thought it was funny.”
“Well at least you didn’t claim it was good,” Darcy remarked deadpan.
“Lying to a dame isn’t my style,” he replied with his face turning slightly pink again, “You are not Judy Garland.”
“Amen.”
----
The silence stretched for a moment, the vacuum was off but still in Darcy’s hand. Steve stood there erect like a statue trying to think of something— anything to say to her that didn’t sound so… desperate.
They were supposed to be adults, right? Talking should not be so hard. Yet, it was like trying to chat up Peggy only harder because Darcy seemed to be more worldly- that or perhaps because there was no war to be found there was more to converse about.
Movies, televisions- things that were still relatively new to Steve. It seemed that was a more common talking point among strangers and he was in no way a science expert like Tony or Bruce.
“Are you just cleaning today?” Steve blurted out after a second.
“Uh yeah? I mean I have nothing else to do…”
Steve smiled, “How would you feel about spending the day out being a normal person?”
Darcy’s brow furred, “What do you mean? I mean I think I’m pretty normal… oh but you’re not, are you?”
Steve frowned, she worked for SHEILD didn’t she? That was completely normal. She was right but it seemed like back handed insult. They were in the ivory tower of New York after all.
“Ma’am forgive me for saying, we’re staying inside a building that not only is hideous but also more expensive than probably most of the high price housing in New York in the 1940’s. We get paid to save the world undercover. None of that is remotely close to normal even if you find yourself cleaning up the tower that Tony Stark typically has his robots doing,” Steve pointed out.
Darcy gasped and looked at the vacuum with distain, “You mean this entire time I was cleaning for absolutely no reason?”
Steve looked at her oddly, did she really think Tony Stark actually cleaned his own home?
“The robots do it every night after we retire to our quarters.”
Darcy kicked the vacuum cleaner, damn and to think she thought she was being useful. What the fuck was the point of this entire exercise anyway? Was she literally being paid to sit around doing nothing until an attack happened?
She might have said that last part aloud based on the fact that Steve was now laughing at her. His face a slight red from amusement.
“Basically Ma’am, we’re being paid to wait for attack to happen,” he explained trying not to make a fool of himself. Honestly, did she think she was here to be their private maid?
Darcy scowled, “Ugh, why did I take this damn job anyway?”
Steve shrugged, “I figured it was because of Miss Foster.”
“Doctor,” Darcy said automatically, “And I would like to think that I have some free will to make my own decisions not based on my friends. It was more like I had a gun pointed to my head by SHIELD— and secretly I always wanted to be a superhero anyway.”
Steve looked at her funny, “You dreamed of saving the world?”
“Eh,” she said after a second, “Okay rewind. I dreamed of— wearing brightly colored spandex and kicking bad guys asses that wore black ski masks. They were you know all henchmen for the evil villain my arch nemesis who always had a cigarette in a holder, a penguin suit, and a purple top hat.”
Steve honestly had no idea what to say to that. His expression kind of showed confusion, disturbance, and creeped out all at once. Darcy had no idea how that was possible but she did get why he was confused nonetheless.
“I watched too much Batman, okay? I can’t explain it without you ever seeing it. Just trust me when I say that most villains don’t look like Burgess Meredith.”
“Sometimes I think they should have left me in the ocean,” he replied after a second.
Darcy grinned and hugged him, “We should go out not dressed as superheroes.”
——
Day Sixteen aka How Darcy got to be a superhero… Part IV…..
So in the end, after a long week of getting to know each other and letting the robots do everything— Darcy and Steve decided to have their normal domestic day dressed as superheroes.
Well sort of, it was kind of a compromise.
Darcy was dressed as Captain America and Steve was dressed like Agent Coulson. Though neither felt comfortable with giving Steve an actual gun, he had a nerf one instead clipped to his belt.
Darcy was in fact actually wearing Steve’s uniform, it was huge on her but some duct tape in creative ways and some temporary holding pins allowed her to wear it. However, agreeing to Steve’s terms she did not have his shield instead she had a plastic one from FAO Schwarz.
They got Pepper to give the personal chef a day off, the robots to back away from the Tower, and everyone else was gone.
“How can you see in this damn thing anyway?” Darcy asked after getting ready that morning.
In her dreams spandex was a lot easier to fit into… and see out of.
“If you were taller…” he pointed out.
Darcy let out a loud huff, “Sure blame it on height.”
Neither wanted to admit it but their friendship for being hardly two weeks old was progressing quicker than it perhaps should have been. Darcy’s sarcasm, Steve’s sense of dry humor, combined with a healthy dose of patriotism, moral justice and needy desire to belong made them a perfect set.
Not that weren’t complications. Steve was inherently shy and anti-social and Darcy could be LOUD.
And Darcy felt sometimes like she was talking to her grandfather. It wasn’t Steve’s fault but every once in awhile she wanted to smack him and say act your age (which was not ninety-four but twenty-six) or call him old-timer.
That and the elephant in the room— S.H.I.E.L.D.
Steve didn’t want to admit to it but he distrusted her still because of a job she had hired to do and not really done anything for. Darcy fully admitted that she had a slightly problem with Steve on the basis that he had a real job and not one that was defined by awkward unnecessary cleaning and basically sitting around doing nothing.
She could have been a politician— or at the very least gone to law school and be the first female president (the latter was highly unlikely but in Darcy’s dreams she was THE woman). Instead, SHIELD more or less threatened her American freedom if she didn’t accept their offer, told her nothing about what she was supposed to do, and set her loose to have absolutely nothing to do.
Admittedly she kind of hated Captain America a little.
—
Captain Darcy America and Agent Rogers go shopping- Part IV
“So the pancakes were a little dry…” Darcy confessed thinking back to breakfast they attempted to make.
Walking down twenty-sixth street noticing that half of Manhattan was staring at them as if they had lost their minds. Steve shrugged, “A little but the butter made up for it.”
Darcy whistled, “Dude, I still have no idea how you ate two dozen pancakes without breaking a sweat. Thor can’t eat that many poptarts.”
“Thor also ate twelve hashbrowns, thirteen pieces of fruit and drank five glasses of orange juice before eating the entire box,” Steve informed her.
“Never mind.”
Seeing a sign for a grocery store, they walked inside. Immediately Darcy went for the cart and some brown haired and brown eyed boy around eight or so came walking up to her.
“Are you Captain America?”
Darcy laughed, “Do I look like Captain America?”
He shook his head but puzzlement still was visible on the boy’s face, “You’re wearing his costume.”
“I am not!” she insisted, “It’s a halloween costume.”
“Halloween isn’t for months, my mommy said so,” he responded pointing in the general direction of what Darcy assumed was his mother based on the exasperated look on her face.
“…” Darcy tried to think about to pacify him without spilling her guts, that would ruin this child’s imagination forever, realizing that his hero actually was a normal guy too (well sort of— not really but he played one well), “I got nothin’,” she confessed after a minute.
“I stole it from his super secret hideout,” she added a moment later.
The boy gasped in horror.
Darcy slapped herself in the forehead, figures an eight year old would buy that. Oh god, Steve was going to kill her… when he got back from standing right behind her.
Steve glared at her and considering he was dressed like Coulson, it actually worked out so much better than if he was doing it himself.
“She’s kidding,” he replied trying to reign in his slight annoyance, “Captain America sent it to her after he saved her life in New York. See the aliens had hurt her and her clothes had blood on it. Nothing bad, just a small cut like if you fell from a jungle gym but enough that she needed something to wear. Lucky for her, he had a spare.”
Darcy silently gave thanks to whatever god taught Steve to talk to little children because now the boy was less distressed and his mother seemed less hostile from afar. She let out a sigh of relief.
“I should totally get hurt next time the city attacked,” the boy cried running over to his mother.
Or not.
Darcy started laughing hysterically.
Steve shoved her lightly.
——
“Tell me about her,” Darcy said later that day, thousands of stares, lots of autographs, facebook photos, and a bunch of reporters later they were sitting on a bench eating ice cream in central park.
They had their slightly normal (but not normal) domestic day: there was baking, eating homemade food, doing the laundry at the thirty-third street laundromat, watching the naked cowboy, riding the subway, going to the post office and now they were snacking after dinner.
It had a good close to a nice day.
“Peggy?” Steve asked.
“Yeah, I mean I read about her— well I mean we read fictionalized tales of her in the comics and in the stories. In my history class,” Darcy added, “British lent American rented solider. Strong but kind of bossy- not a fan of bullshit. Wanted to be more than just a pretty face but the times prevented her from seeing real combat.”
Steve nodded with her statement, all of that was true but it seemed so clinical. She was more than that. Captain America was less than what he was painted as. History told through the eyes of men had skimmed over her and made him an institution and one he truly felt was undeserving.
“Peggy was more of a hero than me,” he started slowly ice cream dripping from his hand, “She wanted to save lives. Stop Hitler. I’m not sure honestly what I wanted when enlisted or any of the times I tried to enlist. I knew I wanted to stop bullies stand up for the little guy. The truth was that I was and still am the little guy. I’m still trying to stand up to bullies but I’m not sure if it’s what I wanted to do.”
Darcy kicked her feet next to his and put her hand on his thigh, “Did you want marriage or kids?”
“If I did than I don’t remember it,” he confessed.
That surprised her, didn’t Captain America remember everything?
“There’s things you don’t remember?”
He started laughing bitterly, “I remembered the ice. I remember the war. I remember Peggy and Bucky and Howard. I was jealous of Howard and then I liked him but I was surprised he felt the same way. He never gave me that indication when the war was going on. Bucky— everything I remember of us was before the war and his death. The whole time we fought together just blended together into one bittersweet memory. Peggy, in my head seems like an angel…”
“But?” Darcy asked timidly.
He looked down at his melted cone, “Doctor Banner was telling me one day of this scientific theory of how people see supposedly see the white light. They assume it’s heaven but really it’s a trick of their brain in their final moments. I don’t know what’s real and what’s not but I think I almost feel that way about Peggy. I’m not sure if the light or real or something I’m imagining.”
Unsure of what to say to that, Darcy squeezed his hand and took away his ice cream cone. She started to wipe him off with the napkins she took from the stand. He helped after a minute.
“I kind of hope that some it was imagined,” she confessed quietly after a minute, Darcy stood up and offered Steve a hand.
Steve briefly met her gaze and then turned away.
He didn’t say it but he hoped his feelings for Darcy weren’t imagined.
——
Part V: Darcy Lewis— superhero in yellow spandex maybe not but definitely a superhero.
At this point, it was now dark, small kids were going to bed, primetime TV was on… and Steve Rogers StarkPhone (™) was ringing.
“Rogers,” he said picking it up. They were walking back to the Tower.
“Yo Cap, Attack on Park and 47th bring the speedo. Hurry,” Tony said before hanging up.
“Wha?”
Darcy looked down… they were two blocks from there. Oh shit. She was using his uniform.
“This is…” before she could even squeak out that panicked sentence they heard a series of growling noises.
“What is that?” Steve questioned running towards the noise not even caring that he was dressed as an agent instead of in uniform.
Darcy followed and when they arrived all they saw were people… that looked like they came out of a Zombieland picture.
“Oh shit,” she muttered.
Steve turned in her general direction, “You know what they are?”
“Zombies," she squeaked out.
Steve blinked, “Like The Cabinet of Dr. Caligari?”
Darcy shook her head, “More like The Evil Dead.”
Too bad this wasn’t a movie date, at least they had both seen The Cabinet of Dr. Caligari.
Five seconds later, Tony Stark dressed in Iron Man gear came flying past the corner building.
“Hey Cap, got your shield— must’a left it behind,” he tossed the shield toward Darcy not even realizing that she was the one in the uniform.
Steve however was the one that caught it before it could hit her. Darcy had moved to protect herself by covering her hands over her head.
“I have to go…” he pointed out.
“Go, I’ll stay here.”
Steve nodded and raced towards the battle.
“Hey Cap where’s the uniform?” Clint asked from above, Steve had grabbed the team communication device he had in his pocket.
“What he’s not suited up?” Tony asked.
Steve snorted, “No Stark, I’m not.” He waved showing Iron Man that he dressed as a Coulson knock-off (later they would have explain it was dress up as your favorite superhero day but not until this well over with).
Tony paused, “Well then whose in the uniform fighting off zombies…”
He felt himself turn white, Darcy!
“Darcy!” he shouted.
“Oh shit,” Tony replied.
“NO KIDDING,” he cried running back to where he had left her.
——
Meanwhile, Darcy was fighting zombies the Zombieland style— using a guitar she took from a musician that had been playing on the street corner. Not exactly a banjo but seemed to work just as well. Each time the guitar connected with a zombie she let out small shriek. Unable to hold back her terror.
“Oh god, I’M GONNA DIE!” she yelled before kicking one in the shin.
Steve came racing back, “Ma’am, I’m here to help.”
“WELL HELP FASTER,” Darcy added before kicking another one.
“Dude that’s kind of awesome,” Clint muttered into his comm.
“Why aren’t any of you helping?” Steve screamed back.
“We’re a little busy at the moment with the other ten thousand zombies,” Natasha said coldly, “Besides it seems you guys are doing fine.”
“Are we?” Darcy asked looking around realizing there were a bunch of totally dead zombies on the ground. Funny that worked. She thought maybe that should have been harder.
“Where did they come from?” Steve asked.
“Frankenstein’s lab,” Tony remarked.
“… Funny…”
“Actually, he’s serious,” Clint injected with a slight hint of irony in his voice, “Doctor Hans Frankenstein had one too many brushes with megalomania and too many instances of delusion of grandeur through a common last name and decided to create his own army of zombies. Unfortunately, his ability to wake the dead is far less effective than any movie versions were.”
“I need a new career,” Steve said finally.
“I concur,” Darcy added, “I’m not getting paid enough for this.”
“Well you did claim to be bored,” Thor added helpfully from up top.
“I TAKE THAT BACK. I WANT TO GO BACK TO DOING NOTHING.”
“No one still has told me why Darcy is dressed as Captain America…”
“Shut up Stark.”
——
Day Seventeen: How Darcy was given a real assignment and not fired
Darcy shifted uncomfortably in her seat. The teasing from her housemates was a walk in the park compared to this. Agent Hill was staring her down— had been for the last hour or so.
Still was and didn’t seem to be a hurry to stop.
“Are you going to say anything?” Darcy asked finally.
Maria glared, “Should I have to?”
“No,” she replied meekly after a second, “We could have gotten ourselves and many other people killed. We made the national newspapers with our stunt. We caused The Avengers some questionable publicity…”
“You saved the city from more property damage, maybe if you’re lucky some lives and got the team to work together without the threat of the world ending,” Maria pointed out.
Wait what?
Darcy paused then she thought back to the weeks leading up to this battle. Honestly, when got here— the team was still a little raw. Not a lot of talking, arguing or well much of anything. They were just people living together doing nothing and avoiding each other. It was Ghost Town USA.
Then her loud mouth started talking— to everyone. Loudly. Often. Singing badly. Complaining that she was bored. Hanging out with Jane and Pepper. Annoying Natasha. Flirting with Steve.
It was— holy shit! She did help them come out of their shells. Agent Hill wasn’t just blowing smoke up her ass.
But seriously, she probably saved no one’s life. Those zombies were bad guy amateurs. Though Frankenstein wasn’t. She however was left out that battle— the Hulk took plenty care of him.
“I didn’t fail?! I DIDN’T FAIL!”
Maria stared at her again, well Darcy proved useful like Fury thought she would. However, that mouth was going to get her killed. Most likely by Maria.
“Well Lewis, now that you finally have survived your rookie mission. Let’s talk business.”
——
“They’re sending me on a mission to India,” Darcy blabbed the second she left the conference room,
Steve had been waiting outside for her.
“For how long?” he asked, he appeared to be somewhat disappointed if the frown and sad twinkle in his bright blue eyes were anything to go by.
Dressed in finally some modern clothing, Steve hugged her wearing a Patriots’ jersey and a pair of Levi’s. It was a miracle, the old man plaid was gone.
“Only a week,” she replied happily, hugging him.
“Good… that’s good,” he answered lamely.
“Darcy…?”
“Yes?”
Steve leaned in and kissed her.
Darcy felt her body melting. Her glasses were fogging up. Her knee was bending back like in the Princess Diaries (not really the last two but she was going pretend that was the outcome of this adventure). She was floating on Cloud Nine.
Steve Rogers was making out with her. HA. Take that Jane. She got her own blonde haired bombshell and unlike Jane hers actually understood human culture.
——
End.