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Darcy was in the Middle of Nowhere, New York when her car broke down. She groaned and banged her head against the steering wheel a few times, then turned on her hazard lights and got out. She knew almost nothing about cars, so it was probably futile to even look under the hood, but it felt more productive than doing nothing.
She popped the hood, propped it open, and stared inside for a minute. “Yep, that looks like a car engine,” she muttered, rolling her eyes at herself and turning away. She got back in the car and pulled out her phone, intending to call AAA… but then another idea occurred to her. She grinned, scrolled through her contacts, and hit call.
“Lewis! What’s up?”
“Hey, Tony. You busy?”
“Not really. Why?”
“Well, my car broke down. This seemed like one of those times where, if I wasn’t buried in NDAs, it would be hilarious to tell people that I asked Iron Man to come fix my car.”
He snorted. “And I suppose it would be even more hilarious if he actually did it?”
“That thought had crossed my mind, but I can call AAA if you don’t want to.”
“No, I’ll come. I just need to wrap up this meeting; I should be there in about an hour.” There were outraged voices in the background; Darcy could practically hear him rolling his eyes. “Maybe two.”
She laughed. “All right. Thanks, Tony.”
“Don’t mention it,” he said, then hung up.
It was a little over an hour later that a motorcycle zoomed past, only to slow, turn around, and park a little ways in front of her. The man—it had to be a man, with a build like that—dismounted and pulled off his helmet. Darcy pulled her pepper spray out of her purse and held it where he wouldn’t be able to see it. She rolled the window down an inch or two when he approached.
He smiled at her, and her brain shorted out for half a second. She really hoped he wasn’t a serial killer or rapist, because he was really attractive. (And serial killers and rapists are never, ever physically attractive. Because only ugly people are evil. Right.) There was something else, though, something familiar—she was sure she’d seen him somewhere, but she couldn’t quite place it…
Well. She’d just have to hope that it hadn’t been on an ‘FBI’s Most Wanted’ poster.
“Do you need any help, Miss?”
She blinked in surprise, then rolled her eyes at herself. Because, yeah, those were her Words—her super-generic, heard-it-every-time-she-lingered-in-a-store-aisle Words. And this guy was super attractive, but there was no way … So, she shook her head. “Uh, no. I already called Iron Man, and I’m pretty sure he’ll be more help than—” There was something, some look on his face, and suddenly it clicked—she knew exactly why he looked familiar. “Holy crap, you’re Steve Rogers!” She relaxed as that sank in, and returned her pepper spray to her purse. “Definitely not a serial killer and/or rapist, then. Cool.”
He made an odd, strangled sound, and she looked up at him. “You okay, dude?”
“I’m… fine. Just—those were my Words. I’m—you’re—unless…?”
Her eyebrows shot up. “Holy crap, are you serious?”
He nodded wordlessly.
“Wow. Okay. Uh, yeah, you said mine, I just… hear them a lot, is all. Let me tell you, I have said some strange things to grocery store employees.”
“Oh. Right. Sorry about—” he cut himself off, frowned, and looked up. “Do you hear that?”
“Hear what?”
He shielded his eyes, looking for the source of whatever sound he was hearing, but didn’t answer. With a mental shrug, she stepped out of the car and joined him in his search.
“There,” he said suddenly, pointing at an apparently empty patch of sky.
“What do your elf eyes see?” she asked.
He turned to her. “What? ‘Elf eyes?’”
She waved him off. “It’s a Thing. What do you see?”
“I’m not sure,” he said, returning his gaze to the sky and squinting. “There’s something… it doesn’t look like a bird or a plane…”
She gasped theatrically. “Is it Superman?”
He shot her an unimpressed look.
She grinned unrepentantly. “What about Iron Man, then?”
He frowned in confusion. “Why would it be Iron Man?”
She raised an eyebrow. “I told you he was coming.”
Steve turned his full attention on her, looking shocked. “Wait, you were serious?”
“Of course!”
“You know Tony?”
“No,” she said, rolling her eyes, “I have his personal cell number because we’re complete strangers.”
Before he had a chance to reply, Iron Man swooped over their heads—close enough that Darcy instinctively ducked—did a loop, and landed with a gentle thud.
After a moment, the suit opened and Tony stepped out. “Lewis! You didn’t tell me this was world-ending car trouble. Did I miss the call to Assemble?”
“Yeah, everyone else has already had a go. Bruce roared at it, Tasha glared at it, and Thor tried percussive maintenance with Mew-Mew. Barton shot out one of the tires, but I think he was just being a jerk. Cap here just finished lecturing it, but it still won’t stop it’s evil schemes of world domination via depriving me of transportation. Help me, Obi-Wan Kenobi. You’re my only hope.”
“Sure thing, Princess.”
“How do you two know each other?”
Darcy took pity on Steve. “I’m Darcy Lewis. I…” She paused, trying to decide how to describe her relationship with the various Avengers. “I’m sort of the Team Mom?”
“Does that make me the Team Dad?”
“Cap, are you flirting with Lewis? Lewis, I think he’s flirting with you. Make him stop.”
“No.”
“But—”
“No.”
“You don’t let me flirt with you.”
“You aren’t my Soulmate.”
“Well, neither is—wait. Is he?”
“Yep.”
"When did that happen?"
"Technically, I'm pretty sure he's always been my Soulmate, but we just found out about it... five, ten minutes ago? Something like that."
Tony stared at her for a moment. "I'm revoking your Princess Leia card; there is no way he's not Luke, and—"
Darcy made a gagging noise. "Yeah. I surrender it gladly."
"I just realized—I have a not-classified reason for knowing you now! That means I can totally tell everyone that Iron Man is my mechanic!"