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“I swear,” Darcy ranted to Bucky as they made their way into the Avengers communal living room. “If I find one more mouse poop I’m going to leave it in my landlord’s mailbox.”
“Have you tried putting out traps?”
“It was the first thing I did. I even had an exterminator come by, on my own dime. Nothing seems to be working!”
Tony looked up from where he had one of the cleaning robots disassembled. “Roaches?”
Darcy sighed. “Mice. Maybe rats. I don’t actually care enough about the difference.”
“Ew. You know, you wouldn’t have that problem if –”
“No, Tony,” Darcy interrupted, “I’m not moving into your tower. It’s beautiful, far nicer than my place, and a dream housing offer, but it’s also the building in which I work. I refuse to live in the same building where I work.”
Tony sighed, put out. “Boring, but fair.”
Bucky picked up his cat, Alpine, who had shown up and wound between his legs. As she purred in his arms, he got a look in his eye. “What’s your building’s policy on pets?”
Darcy perked up. Now, there was an idea…
— — —
“I need a cat,” Darcy announced to the nice lady behind the desk at the New York Humane Society shelter. “A mouser would be nice, but even if all it does is eat and sleep and shit in a box, its scent in my apartment should still help. I don’t care what it looks like, or its gender, or its age. I don’t even care if it hates people, or screams at all hours of the night, or destroys my stuff; a lot of people are worth hating, I can sleep with earplugs in, and my security deposit is a lost cause anyway. As long as it doesn’t run away from mice in fear or need more care than a homebody with a full-time job can provide, it’ll do.”
The woman blinked at Darcy a few times before proving herself a true New Yorker, only asking, “Are you sure you don’t want to be a little pickier?”
Darcy grinned. “Show me your best mouser, and we can work from there.”
— — —
The cat Darcy was holding up, reminiscent of that one scene from The Lion King , was yowling and hissing. Altogether, it visually reminded Sam of that one cat from the Harry Potter series, apart from being gray instead of orange. Darcy’s grin was far too large for a woman who was probably going to be murdered in her bed that night.
“I have named him Asset,” she announced, “because his only emotion is rage, he’s good at killing, and we have no idea how old he is. If he develops a personality, we can revisit the name.”
Bucky looked delighted. Steve looked appalled.
Sam had a headache.
— — —
Asset had, when Darcy opened his carrier, beelined for under her couch. As far as she was aware, he was still down there. That was okay with her; he was more likely to find a mouse under it than on top. She had placed his food and water bowls out in plain sight, filled, and had scattered a few toys around. Now she was sitting on her living room rug, surrounded by pieces of cat tree and swearing profusely in Old Norse. (Thor had been giving her lessons for the next time she ran into Loki; with her luck, after all, it was only a matter of time, and her taser could attest to her belief in being fully prepared.)
With an annoyed huff, she picked up her phone and dialed her boyfriend. “Bucky, darling, have I told you lately how much I love you?” On the other end of the line, she heard him snicker.
“What do you need help with, Darcy?”
Darcy let out a faux-offended gasp. “Do I have to need something to call my boyfriend?”
“To call? Nope. To start off with exaggerated flattery? Hate to break it do ya, Doll, but there is a rather telling history for that sort of lead-in.”
Though he couldn’t see it, she shrugged. “Fair enough. I need help assembling Asset’s cat tree.”
“I should be able to help with that. Want me to bring Tony for his experience assembling things, or Steve for his patience?”
“Since I don’t want to know what sort of ‘improvements’ Tony would think a cat tree needs, bring Steve. Maybe Sam if you can get him; he has a vibe like he’d be good at this sort of thing.”
“Will do.” She could hear the smile in Bucky’s voice as he added, “Do we get any form of payment?”
“I have seven different flavors of ice cream in my freezer. Will that and a Netflix marathon suffice?”
“I suppose that’ll do. I’ll see you in half an hour or so?”
“Thanks, Bucky. I appreciate it.”
“You’re welcome, Doll.”
— — —
Bucky had shown up with both Steve and Sam in tow. The three of them were clustered in her living room and bickering like an old married triad. Darcy couldn’t help but smile as she listened. She was whipping up a quick batch of cookies while waiting for the pizza she’d ordered to arrive. Despite only ice cream being promised as a reward, she was fully aware how much even one super soldier could eat; she’d prefer to have at least a serving of her ice cream remaining when they left. That was far more likely if she filled them up with actual food before unleashing them on dessert.
Darcy peeked around the corner and snickered. Steve was wearing a look of long-suffering, holding a post in place while Sam and Bucky bickered over the instructions and which hardware they were supposed to use to anchor it in place. She suspected he’d been holding it for a while, and would have to for even longer.
Back in the kitchen, she set the oven to preheat and began scooping dough. She hoped the boys would finish the assembly before the pizza arrived.
(They didn’t.)
— — —
Darcy left Asset alone while he was settling in. She figured if he wanted her attention, he’d ask for it. Until then, she wasn’t going to subject him to a stranger all up in his business. While she had yet to see him come out from under the couch, his food dish was regularly being emptied, the water level in the fountain was going down, and she’d had to scoop his litter box nightly. He at least knew where the important stuff could be found, and that was good enough for her.
Six mornings after adopting Asset, Darcy woke to find a dead mouse by her pillow. She was both thrilled and disgusted.
— — —
“How many mice has Asset caught so far?” Bucky asked as he poured coffee into Darcy’s favorite mug and passed it to her.
“Seven that he’s brought to me. Any he’s eaten or hidden, I’m not aware of.” She accepted the coffee gratefully and took a long drag. “I appreciate that he’s fixing my mouse problem. I’d just really like to stop waking up with dead mice in my face. All the laundry cycles are wearing out my sheets; they’ve got three new holes in them since last week.”
“Darcy, babe,” Bucky said with a sigh, “you’ve needed new sheets for literally a year. They’re developing holes so quickly because they were already see-through and mostly dead.”
“So what you’re saying is they’re now dead-dead and I should go through their pockets for loose change?”
Bucky snorted at the Princess Bride reference. “If they had pockets, there would be too many holes for any loose change to still be around. I’m saying we should get you new sheets, doll. Maybe three or four sets so you can cycle through them instead of having to put the same set back on your bed after washing it.”
Darcy let out an exaggeratedly-dramatic gasp. “Three or four pairs of sheets? Do I look like Tony Stark to you?”
“Doll, you’re far prettier than Stark could ever hope to be.” Bucky dropped a wink and picked up his own coffee mug. “You’re also an adult now, and a post-college adult making decent money at that. It’s okay to buy adult things, like spare sets of sheets.”
“Ugh, you’re probably right, but the thought of buying more than one set still makes me break out in hives.”
“Would it help if I went with you? We could make a day of it, get some home goods I need as well and have lunch together?”
Darcy considered as she sipped her coffee. “We could do that. Really leans into the adulthood angle making it a date, but I must be a grown up after all because it sounds fun.”
“All right, then,” Bucky replied with a grin, “let’s finish our coffee and get ready to go.”
— — —
Despite Bucky’s encouragement to lean into her adulthood, Darcy still managed to leave her bedroom window open while they were out. By the time she got back with her new sheets (and various impulse purchases), Asset was gone.
— — —
In Darcy’s defense, Asset still spent most of the time she was home and awake under her couch. It was perfectly reasonable she hadn’t noticed he was gone until the shrieking had started.
Darcy burst from her apartment and raced down the stairs towards the sound. Bucky would have hated that she did it, but she figured that if only Mrs. Henderson was screaming then it probably wasn’t anything Avengers-worthy. She nearly face planted tripping on the last few steps. By the time she stumbled into the building’s entrance hall, Mrs. Henderson was leaning against the wall and clutching her chest, panting heavily with her groceries strewn all about the floor.
“It just raced right through!” she wailed as soon as she saw Darcy. “Right between my legs, chasing a giant rat! It ran that way!” She pointed towards the Superintendent's office near the back.
“What did?” Darcy asked, bending to pick up a stray potato.
“An ugly gray cat!”
Darcy dropped the potato.
— — —
“I think Asset escaped.”
Bucky tucked his phone between his shoulder and his ear and reached for his car keys. “Hello to you too, Darcy. Is there anything I can help you with?”
“Bucky! Mrs. Henderson was screaming about an ugly gray cat chasing a rat through the building, and I can’t find Asset anywhere! He could get hurt out there!” On the other end of the line, Darcy sounded like she was reaching hysterics. “What if he gets run over? What if a rat bites him and he dies of rabies because I couldn’t take him to the vet? I promised to take care of him, and I’m failing!”
“Darcy, take a deep breath. I know this is stressful, but Asset is gonna be okay. I’m on my way out the door now. I’ll be there in twenty minutes because I’m taking my bike, and I’ll help you look once I arrive. Asset survived on the streets before you took him in; he might be a bit more feral when we find him, but he’ll be alright.” A few sniffles on the line had him fumbling with his keys as he rushed to lock his door.
“Okay. Okay, I can breathe. Just, please Bucky, get here as fast as you can?”
“I’m heading to the garage now. Gotta hang up so I can drive.”
“Right, do that then. And drive safely! And fast.” She hung up before he could even say goodbye, but that was probably for the best. It just meant he could get there a little faster.
— — —
Bucky had run into Steve on his way out. The blond, determined to help, had hopped on his own motorcycle and followed Bucky to Darcy’s apartment building, where he now stood guard over the door while the others searched for Asset. Since Asset was still in the building last they knew, it gave Steve the chance to open doors and smile at people with his old-fashioned “aw shucks” charm and keep an eye out so Asset couldn’t escape via the front door. Darcy and Bucky meanwhile started with the super’s office and swept the rest of the ground floor. They were almost done with no signs of any wayward tabbies when a thud and a string of swears sounded from the apartment above their current position. The two shared a look and darted for the staircase.
Apartment 2C was occupied by a sweet older gentleman who had survived both the Vietnam war and almost fifty years as a New York taxi driver. He complimented all the ladies in the building, never left a mess in the hall, and was one of the quietest tenants in the entire complex. He also had one of the filthiest vocabularies Darcy had ever had the pleasure of hearing.
Bucky reached the door first less by virtue of being enhanced and more by virtue of Darcy eating donuts often and running literally never. His knock was answered as Darcy stumbled up behind him, panting. “Hi, Mr. Michaels!” she wheezed. “We’re looking for my cat. Big, selectively attractive, gray, kinda rude? You haven’t seen him by any chance, have you?”
Mr. Michaels scowled. “Bastard fucker just stole my sandwich. Right from my fucking hands! Grabbed it and dove out the damn window.”
“He got outside again?” Darcy wailed. “Now we’ll never find him!”
“Hey, we’ll find him, Doll, we’ll find him,” Bucky reassured her. “He’s probably still in the alley eating his prize.”
“His prize, like fuck. That was my damn sandwich,” Mr. Michaels grumbled. He opened the window wider and yelled out it, “Did you hear that, you fucking bastard? That was my fucking sandwich! ”
“Right,” Bucky said, tapping Mr. Michaels on the shoulder. “If you’ll excuse me, sir?” Mr. Michaels looked confused as Bucky carefully maneuvered him to the side. Once he had enough room, Bucky hopped onto the window sill and looked back at Darcy. “Meet you outside, Doll.” With that, he jumped down into the alley below.
When Darcy made it outside, Bucky was peering into a dumpster and calling, “Here, kitty kitty kitty,” on repeat. She rolled her eyes – as if Asset would ever respond to a human calling him – but began poking around the other side of the alley.
Across the street, a yelp came from inside the bakery. Darcy and Bucky shot each other a glance before rushing across the street, ignoring the cars that honked at their jaywalking.
When they entered, the first thing they saw was the proprietress, Mrs. Geul, waving a broom in the air. The second thing they saw was Asset crouched on the chandelier, hissing whenever the broom got near him, mouth clamped around what could only be Mr. Michaels’s sandwich. Bucky, utterly unhelpfully, nearly fell over laughing. Darcy rolled her eyes at him; apparently she had to do everything herself.
“Asset!” she called up to him sweetly, holding her arms open as though he were the type of cat to come when she called. “There you are, darling! Mommy’s missed you, sweet boy. Come on down and let’s go home.” She almost fell over from shock as well as his weight when Asset actually jumped down into her arms and started purring. She recovered quickly, rubbing him behind his ears. “There’s my good kitty. Did you have fun on your little adventure, huh?” She sighed as Bucky came up behind her and reached around her to pet Asset under the chin. Her feline monster ramped up his purring even more, hamming it up for their audience. “Let’s never have an adventure like that again. I’m so sorry, Mrs. Geul.” She turned her head to address the proprietress and passed Asset off to Bucky. “He got out of the building and made it all the way over here, I guess.”
“He’s yours, then?” Mrs. Geul asked hesitantly. “I wouldn’t have expected you to have a cat who is quite so… unique as he is.”
And look, Darcy knew her cat was ugly, okay? He was ugly, and more often than not mean-tempered, and he left dead things on her pillows. But damn it all, he was hers and they loved each other in their own way and it had been a long-stressful day.
Darcy burst into tears.
“Okay,” Bucky said in a hurry, “we’ve had a very long day. We’re gonna take this guy and get ourselves home.” He stuffed Asset back into Darcy’s arms and grabbed her shoulders to steer her towards the door. “I’ll be back sometime tomorrow to check if Asset damaged anything. Have a great day!” They were out the door and waiting to cross the street before Mrs. Geul or anyone else could reply.
When they made it back into the apartment, Asset hopped down from Darcy’s arms and swaggered over to his cat tree. He leapt to the top and curled up in a ball, falling asleep quickly. Darcy and Bucky watched him for a moment before looking at each other.
“Chinese?” Bucky asked.
Darcy sniffled. “You make the call; I’ll queue up the movie?”
“Deal.” Bucky grabbed his phone with a grin and got ready to spend the rest of the evening with his girlfriend.
— — —
Bucky woke up the next morning with Asset on his face and a dead mouse on his pillow next to his head. Darcy woke up to his cursing and laughed so hard she fell out of bed.
It was a weird life, but neither of them would change it for anything.