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Steve remembers the day he had bought the tiny little piece of clothing. It was back in 2014, during a skirmish with Hydra forces while in the south of France, desperately looking for Bucky. The little specialty boutique hadn't stood a chance against the gunfire coming at him, Sam and Natasha at the time. Thankfully, Fury had cleared out the civilians in time.
But when the little, gray, gentle shopkeeper had come back to see her little boutique in ruins, Steve had felt like the lowest of the low.
"Don't worry, Captain," she had assured him in French as she patted his forearm. Steve looked far more devastated than she did, actually. "It is never too late to build something new and beautiful. Even if you have to rebuild it."
Sam and Natasha were getting the remaining Hydra forces ready for pickup by Maria and Clint. Steve had been expressly forbidden from doing any prisoner processing. He tended to get a little violent when dealing with the people who were associated with Bucky's tormentors. So he had taken to helping with cleanup.
"Merci," Steve nodded as the little old woman handed him a broom and he began pushing it against piles of rocks and shards of glass in the entrance. Once that was clear, he carefully removed the destroyed front door and followed the old woman into her shop, seeing for the first time what she actually sold. He had thought to find fine French dresses for ladies inside, and this boutique did have fine French dresses, just for much smaller ladies.
"They did not get everything, you see," the shopkeeper smiled, pulling out an unopened box from behind the destroyed front counter. She opened it and inside were quite a few unbelievably tiny little dresses. Light pinks and soft blues and rich lavenders all in soft and fluffy material. Each little unique dress was meant to be put on a small baby girl. "Do you have children, Captain?"
"No, not at all," Steve answered back in the French that Dernier had stubbornly taught all the Howling Commandos. "My life isn't safe...you understand."
Bucky had always used the language of love to woo poor, unsuspecting French ladies. He'd been quite good at it back in 1944.
"Don't be stupid," she answered back with a chuckle. She carefully shifted the dresses in the box, moving aside a little pink ballerina dress, a soft yellow dress that looked like a miniature ball gown, before revealing a bright red dress with black polka dots. When Steve huffed out an amused little breath at the sight of a tiny little dress that was meant to make a small baby girl look like a little ladybug, the shopkeeper looked up with a knowing smile. "Yes, you prefer bold colors. I don't have your ridiculous flag outfit, but I will send you one when I have made one. In the meantime you will take this."
"I couldn't," Steve shook his head. He would never have someone small enough in his life to fit into a little lady bug dress. He had made sure that the only person who he would want to embark on that journey with was far away and lost to him and completely safe. "I have no need for it."
"Some day you will," she insisted, digging out a fancy little box and carefully placing the finery into it. "Everything can be rebuilt, Captain."
Steve remembered the first time he met Darcy Lewis.
It hadn't gone well at first.
Tony threw a party, because Tony was always throwing parties.
It had been 2013, and Steve had just returned from a trip around the United States, settling back into his serviceable apartment in Brooklyn for now. Fury had plans that required Steve at the Triskellion more often, so it was decided Steve would lock up his place in Brooklyn and relocate to DC instead.
He hadn't minded. He had nothing but Tony in New York City and he had nothing but Natasha in DC. All in all, it was mostly an even swap. Tony had of course, insisted on throwing him a going away party, even though Steve had spent the last six months away from home.
The electronic banner in the giant Penthouse living area read
Goodbye Cap! Welcome Doc and The Boobs (and Thor)!
Steve realized that Thor had returned back to Earth, and the event in London was done and over with now as the tall Asgardian stood by the bar with two, very short, brunette ladies. One was clinging to him possessively, meaning that she was the Dr. Foster that Thor had insisted Coulson take care of before the Chitauri invasion. Dr. Foster was openly glaring at any of the questionable ladies that Tony always had at one of his parties. With good reason to, because they were actively trying to pull Thor directly out of Jane's tenacious hold.
The other brunette was not clinging to Thor. She was standing in front of the tall Asgardian, actively squirting a watergun at girls who were getting too close on Thor's unoccupied side.
"Back off, girl, God, Tony Stark is right over there. You act like you never saw a slab of Asgardian beefcake before!" the curvy brunette hollered at a particularly ambitious platinum blonde before shooting her directly in the eye with the water gun. She planted her hands on her hips before catching a glimpse of Steve ambling towards Thor from the other side of the room. Her eyes widened just a little and pouty red lips fell open. She shook herself out of it pretty quickly and pointed directly at him. "LOOK! It's Captain Fucking America! He's single and ready to mingle!"
What followed was almost cartoonish. Steve was suddenly surrounded by men and women alike, talking and chatting and petting and pawing. Five minutes later, Steve had made it about ten feet closer to the bar, and he was seriously pissed. He wanted to stalk over to that tiny, impish, curvy brunette and read her the riot act.
Luckily, he didn't have to.
"Alright, alright, enough already!" the girl's irritated shout could be heard approaching from the throngs of people.
A few shrieks sounded around him and one woman wailed out, "Did you put fucking pepper water in that squirt gun?"
"Duh," was the only reply.
Suddenly, the small woman was in front of him and held out a hand,
"Come with me if you don't want to be groped anymore."
She yanked him away, directly by a smiling and waving Thor and a proud Jane, then a smirking Natasha, and lastly Tony Stark, who was doubled over with teary eyed laughter. Finally, they were in the open air of the patio and his betrayer and rescuer looked up at him with a big, gap-toothed grin.
"You're totally welcome, dude."
Steve's mouth dropped open and he shook his head ever so slightly.
"Oh no. You look like my third grade teacher used to look before I got sent to the principal's office," her grin faded and a petulant look remained, like she was gearing herself up for a fight.
"Do you think that I owe you my thanks?" Steve huffed out. "I was just pawed at by half of the party thanks to you."
"I didn't do the pawing!" she argued. "Blame Tony's tastes in guests for that!"
"That was the rudest, most inconsiderate thing anyone has ever done to me---"
"I hardly believe that!" she scoffed. "You fought Nazi's, they're plenty more rude than I am! I rescued you with pepper water!"
Steve opened his mouth to argue again, but found none ready and waiting. Instead a little huff of laughter came out. He shrugged and then laughed out loud. He didn't care that the girl was staring at him like he had lost all sense. He laughed at the ridiculousness of first being fed to the wolves by someone then being rescued by that same person, who looked shorter than he had pre-serum, with a squirt gun filled with pepper water. He kept laughing until his rescuer had no choice but to start laughing as well.
"Pepper water," he managed to get out between chuckles.
"I'm Darcy Lewis, by the way," Darcy held out a hand. "Stark just hired me on as lab manager."
"Steve Rogers, but I think you already knew that," Steve nodded. "And I'm going to have to come back and visit so that I can see you managing Stark. That'd be something."
"I'm not too fussed," Darcy waved him off. "He's nothing compared to Janie, Thor and the Warriors Three."
They stood there sizing each other up for a little while. The sounds of the bustling city below and the raging party surrounding them in a cocoon of white noise.
"Sorry to throw you to the wolves earlier," Darcy finally said softly.
"I lived," Steve shrugged, feeling something warm stirring behind his ribs. "Always do."
Steve remembered the first time Darcy came down to visit him in DC, a few days before the new Smithsonian exhibit opened. They had managed to create a nice little friendship in the last few months through text messages, skype sessions and occasional visits to New York from Steve. But this was the first time she was visiting him.
Despite all of Natasha's badgering, Steve would not tell the red-head what his intentions towards Darcy were. They were good friends. She was important to him. Deep down, yes, he wanted to grab her and kiss her senseless, especially on those days that she seemed intent on doing her damndest to fire him up. He knew those days coincided with the days that he seemed most sad or down or quiet, so he never complained, really. Darcy was a nice, new bright spot in an otherwise desolate, violence fueled world.
And a big seed of doubt deep down inside told him that she was too young, too precious and far too good for him or his life.
But she had planned this trip, insisting it was time for her to come and visit him. Especially since he was scheduled to walk through the Smithsonian Exhibit in less than twenty-four hours. Neither of them had said that out loud, but Steve was grateful that she would be there with him. Heaven only knew what he was about to see.
He was sitting on the stoop to his apartment, patiently waiting for the Stark car to pull up and drop Darcy off when he heard a familiar cursing from down the block followed by a heavy plop of a suitcase falling to the concrete.
"Darce?" he looked up, confused, and there she was, walking down the street, staring down at a now busted open suitcase with a wrinkled nose. He ran towards her and wrapped her up in a tight hug.
They hugged now. That was a thing they did.
Darcy was incredibly tactile. She would hug potted plants if she could. And Steve was physically incapable of turning away her affectionate gestures. Rather, he soaked it up like a sponge.
"What're you doing here? Where's your car?" Steve demanded.
"I wanted to try the train," Darcy answered, her voice muffled against his chest.
"Where is your security?" Steve demanded, holding her tighter so she had to stay still and answer him about that very important detail.
"Psshaww, security. I have a taser and a water gun filled with pepper water. I'll be fine," Darcy insisted.
"Darce," Steve admonished. He had been going on increasingly ridiculous missions for SHIELD, feeling very much like Fury's personal janitor and he knew. He could feel that the world was wrong somehow. That something was off. And someone as innocent and amazing and wonderful as Darcy was constantly in danger, especially because of the company she kept.
"C'mon, let me clean up my things," Darcy wiggled in his hold. "You're my security now."
Steve smiled and bent down with her, picking up the week's worth of clothing she had brought along for a three day weekend. His hand grasped something silky and smooth and he looked down to see a bright blue satiny negligee and he felt his heart begin to hammer in his chest.
"Oh God," Darcy pursed her lips, grabbing the negligee out of his hand. "You're not supposed to see that yet."
The first time Steve got to see that blue negligee on Darcy's gorgeous body was not during that three day weekend. After visiting the Smithsonian, Darcy had comforted him with pizza and wings back at his apartment. Comforting embraces had turned into a first kiss. And that first kiss had turned into many soft kisses. And soft kisses had turned into heated kisses. And before either of them knew it, they spent the rest of Darcy's visit without a stitch of clothing on, comfortably wrapped around each other in Steve's bed.
He kept that a secret, holding it tight in his chest. Natasha could pester him all she wanted. He wasn't going to admit that he didn't need her help with finding a date because he had already found one. And Darcy was so much more than a date.
He saw the negligee three weeks after the Triskellion fell, when he and Sam had come into New York City to prepare to go out again in the world in search for Bucky.
She knew something was wrong when his arms were stiff around her.
“I want you to know, that it really isn’t you, you’re---you have been absolutely wonderful,” Steve whispered against her hair.
"Please don't do this, Steve," Darcy whispered against his chest, feeling ice cold tremors work up and down her spine.
"S'not fair to you," Steve mumbled, sounding miserable and desolate. He took a long sniff, knowing that he was ruining everything, but trying to grab for the solace that if he was ruining it, it was for her safety and eventual happiness, which was worth the entire world to him. "I should have never even...shouldn't have."
"Don't do this," Darcy repeated, sounding impatient and angry. "Steve, you're breaking my heart."
"I'd rather break your heart than get you killed," Steve stepped back from her, his eyes focusing on the pretty lime green toenail polish she had used on her toes. He thought of Bucky. Of the assassin he had fought three weeks ago, whose entire life had now been one large bucket full of torture and pain. "Or worse."
"Fuck you. No one gets to decide these kinds of things for me. When you realize that you’re an ass, call me and maybe I’ll pick up," Darcy ground out, before stomping back through her Stark Tower's apartment to her bedroom, bright blue negligee shimmering in the candlelight that she had set up in anticipation of his arrival. "Get out!"
The first time he knew that he loved Darcy more than anything, more than his fears of someday losing her to the terror in his life, was a cold Winter morning in 2015. He had been back in the tower for five days while Sam visited family in Virginia.
He had tried for nearly a year to force her out of his heart, to no avail. And even though he had tried to end things with her, she kept on pushing herself into his life. Whether it was making real hotel accommodations for him while he chased Bucky through Europe, or sending along a care package for he and Sam full of baked goods and the comforts of home, Darcy persisted.
She sent him letters too. Real letters on paper, written in colorful ink from many different pens. When she was mad at him, she'd use red. The first five letters had been written angrily in bold, bright red. She'd accused him of cowardice, something that bit at him right down to his core and almost made him pick up the phone immediately to call and vent his frustrations to her. Which of course, he realized later with a clearer head, was exactly what she had wanted.
When she was sad, the ink would be a dark blue that had some sort of sparkle to it. Sam had assured him it wasn't Asgardian in nature. The sad letters started after the angry letters ended. Seeing a tear stain smearing the ink at the end of one of the letters HAD gotten him to call her. And they sniffled together for ten whole minutes before quietly telling each other that they missed each other.
He called again less than twenty-four hours later, after having seen the devastation of an earthquake in a small town, so many people lost. So much grief and pain.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered once she had picked up.
“I forgive you,” Darcy promised softly. He could hear her smile when she said, “But this gets me one get out of jail free card. At least.”
When she was hungry, the letters would be in lime green. And he would call her and ask her what unidentifiable food stuff was on the bottom of the letter. And they'd talk softly, sharing little jokes that made him feel so warm inside that he thought that he would certainly burst open from the lovely sensation.
One letter had been written in a deep purple color. And it had been full of memories from their short lived, undefined physical relationship from the prior year. Her words were like a picture, frozen in time and made him board the quinjet taking Sam home for a week’s worth of R&R, even though Steve had said he wasn't going back because if he went back, it would be nearly impossible to leave again.
And when he landed and headed towards Stark Tower. He saw her, standing in the park, all bundled up in her winter finery, securing a very warm, knitted scarf around the neck of a much taller man.
Steve blinked.
She reached into her messenger bag and came out with a ziploc bag containing a simple peanut butter and jelly sandwich, which Steve knew she packed every day in case Jane or Tony or Bruce were in need of sustenance. She opened it up and popped about half of it right into the mouth of the much taller, very broad man.
Steve blinked again.
Darcy fed the men the rest of the sandwich, then grabbed his hand, put it on the end of her own long, heavy knit scarf before walking towards the nearest coffee cart. The tall, broad, dirty and disheveled man flinched at the sparse crowd of people she led him through, but followed her with light footsteps. His hand clutched around her scarf. His metal hand .
Steve felt his pulse slow and his vision go a little dim as he watched Darcy buy two large cups of hot chocolate, handing one off to the man still clinging to her scarf and sipping at her own before she began marching again, her quick, little steps matching up seamlessly to the man's---to Bucky's long, slow steps.
She led him like a mother duckling through the New York streets, murmuring a question up at Bucky and getting a negative response. She nodded and turned away from the subway before hailing a cab. She pulled out her phone and began tapping away.
Steve's phone buzzed and he looked down to see a text message from Darcy.
'Please come home right away. Just found something you might like that might have been following me around for a little. I'm going to be dropping something off at your old place, and could use some help with it.'
Steve took a shuddering breath, trying to swim up from the shock seeing Darcy and Bucky together had put him in. His phone buzzed in his hand and he looked down, choking out a laugh.
'Oh yeah, also, I love you.'
Steve ran for the subway, knowing he could get to his old Brooklyn apartment before the cab managed to make it. He ran up the stairs and used his thumbprint to open up the door to the apartment he hadn't had to use in over a year. He quickly went to the thermostat and blasted the heat up as high as he could, before rushing around and pulling off white sheets that had been set over his old belongings to ward away dust. He'd managed to do all that, as well as throwing a set of sheets into his washer so that he could set up the spare bedroom and his own properly, well before the biometric lock on the front door beeped, allowing Darcy in.
"Oh," she breathed out at the sight of him, standing right in the middle of his living room, his hands bunched around a big and fluffy comforter he had dug out of a closet. Bucky was still gripping her scarf and he stared at Steve with big blue eyes, purposefully blank. "You're home."
"Yeah," Steve nodded, before dropping the comforter and rushing towards the front door. He had Darcy in a strong armed embrace in no time, planting his lips against hers, even as Bucky held tight to her scarf.
"Jesus, let her breathe, punk."
Steve pulled reluctantly away from Darcy's enjoyable lips and turned to Bucky with a small smile. Darcy was back on her feet and Steve stood in front of Bucky now, questions in his eyes.
"M'okay," Bucky nodded. "Stuff is getting more solid up there in my brain and I went looking for you. Found your dame instead."
"I am no man's dame!" Darcy insisted haughtily. "Steve is my boytoy. Now, who wants a shower and who wants some more hot chocolate? My vote is that Bucky gets the shower, because...blech. Stinky."
When Steve told her later that night, whispering his words of love in her ear as he curled long limbs around her plush little body, she just smiled and nodded.
"I know you big dummy. I love you, too."
Steve admitted to himself exactly what he wanted less than two weeks later, when he was trying to clear out a closet in his bedroom to make room for Darcy's things. Bucky was getting well settled into the guest room quite nicely while Darcy worked with the landlord on getting the empty apartment across the hall bought so that when Bucky was ready for privacy, he could have it.
She hung up her cell phone and rolled around on his their unmade bed, before reaching for a small little box that Steve had almost completely forgotten about in the back of his closet. He had dropped it off after returning home from France, throwing it on the top shelf and burying the idea of it far away. Her little gasp had him looking up from his own work as she looked at the tiny little ladybug dress, hands going over the voluminous ruffles reverently.
"Why---"
"Long story. I just---I liked it," Steve shrugged. "A little old lady in France practically forced me to buy it last year, said maybe someday...you know."
"Yeah, I do," Darcy nodded. She put the little dress back into the box and handed it back to him to put back into the closet. "Hey, will you marry me?"
"Wh----" Steve's mouth went suddenly dry and he shook himself out of the immediate, all consuming stupor. His lips slowly turned into a grin. "Yeah. Yes. I'd love nothing more."
Steve knew that their lives were about to change for the undeniably better the day that Bucky finally decided on butter yellow dream for a kitchen color for his own apartment.
"Happy to be moving out to be on your own like the wild bachelor you are?" Darcy wondered eight months after bringing Bucky back to the apartment, while she helped Bucky to pick out paint colors for his new kitchen across the hallway. She held up a buttery yellow color and gave her thumbs up in approval.
"Hell yes," Bucky smirked. "My roommates are kind of a pain. Newlyweds, you know? Just married six months ago and they still can't keep their hands off of each other."
"I have an idea," Darcy nodded.
"With the amount of whoopee these two make, it's a wonder that one of them isn't expecting a watermelon to grow in her stomach over the next couple of months."
"There's this amazing thing called birth control, old timer," Darcy giggled.
"I know about contraceptives, smart ass. I attended the Bruce Banner sex-ed class months ago," Bucky huffed out at her as he held up a muted blue color which she gave the thumbs down to. "Just wondering you know....when I might be getting called Uncle Bucky."
"Someday," Darcy reached out and ruffled his hair. "C'mon, let's go to the store and get all your painting stuff."
They returned with the color Darcy had absolutely insisted on in the end, and she helped him to tape up the edges of appliances and drape cloths over the appliances. Midway through securing a sheet over his modest cabinets, Darcy held up one finger and looked as if she were about to sneeze.
Steve walked into the room just in time to see Darcy darting for Bucky's new bathroom, her hands over her face.
Bucky's eyes widened and looked to Steve accusingly.
"Modern birth control, my ass."
The day that Steve finally got some use out of that frilly little ladybug dress was a very lovely Christmas morning two months after Bucky realized that Darcy had stopped taking her very effective modern birth control seven weeks prior.
He had been out on a mission with Bucky and Sam, greatly enjoying the ridiculous bickering that the pair never let up on. Their current bickering was about who Natasha loved more.
Natasha, bless her soul, refused to declare one of them the winner. She was woman enough to need the both of them after all.
And aside from some ridiculous posturing, Bucky and Sam kind of enjoyed that too.
Or really enjoyed it. Quite a lot.
Steve had missed the last ultrasound appointment, due to the mission with Bucky and Sam. Darcy had called him and snuck him into the doctor's office on speaker phone, and he heard their baby's heartbeat and heard Darcy making excited little noises and he cried from the sheer joy of it. He was bound and determined to make her next appointment. Thankfully, the rest of the Avengers seemed to agree, and promised to cover for him should anything else come up.
Sam, Natasha and Bucky were currently putting the finishing touches on brunch, while Darcy and Steve cuddled next to the tree, with Steve rubbing at the little swell of baby that Darcy carried. Jane and Thor were on the couch, watching their friends with a fond smile.
"You missed one," Darcy nudged Steve's shoulder with her head.
He reached for the flat little box she was gesturing to with her hulk slippers. Carefully he pulled off the ribbons before ripping into the paper with glee. Darcy bit at her lip next to him as she watched carefully as he lifted the lid off the box and pulled away tissue paper, to reveal a tiny little ladybug dress.
"Darce," he breathed. "How do you---"
"It turns out when you show the God of Fertility an ultrasound picture, and then let him rub your tummy? He can totally tell what's cooking in there," Darcy gave him a silly, goofy, gap toothed grin.
He let out a happy sound that was tinged with tears before practically diving for his wife. His arms wrapped high around her torso as he placed kiss after kiss against her modest little baby bump. He took the dress and placed it over the swell, grinning like a fool at the sight of it.
"Hi sweet baby girl, it's me, your dad."
The baby shower had been lovely. Things that Natasha and Jane worked on together usually turned out to be lovely. Steve had been delighted to realize that it was co-ed, and when he had ushered Darcy into the little team room in Manhattan, they were overwhelmed with everything ladybug.
There was a tower of cupcakes, each one decorated with tiny little red, polka-dotted candies. Most the little gifts were wrapped up in bright red paper. Even the little plates and cups were decorated in the ladybug theme.
Steve held up a decorated sugar cookie, making it crawl along the big slope of his wife’s belly before bringing it to her lips for a bite.
“Good god, man, you used to be a little cool, if only because you were all aloof and pouting,” Tony scoffed at him, grabbing one of the cookies anyway and biting into it. “Now you’re a big giant sap in a patriotic onesie.”
Because Steve was in his uniform. Half of the party was in uniform, as they had just cleared up a minor problem at the docks with a giant trailer full of angry, mutated emu. Natasha had been on the phone during the op with Jane and the caterer, multi-tasking better than anyone had before as she corralled the angry beasts back into the trailer.
“Speaking of onesies,” Bucky interrupted, holding out a small plastic bag. “I saw this in the shop heading over here and couldn’t resist.”
Darcy rolled her eyes. It was kind of a thing with Bucky. It had only taken eighteen hours after Darcy’s first positive pregnancy test for Bucky to start bringing her little gifts nearly every day. Some days it was a few times a day. Little stuffed animals, soft covered books, bath toys, and every single piece of clothing that caught his eye.
Bucky’s prior gift giving had been so prolific, they didn’t really need anymore gifts, but her friends had insisted on a shower, and she wasn’t one to turn down cupcakes and a chocolate fountain. Even for the bigger ticket items, they were covered. Steve had found a willing accomplice in Thor, who spent months researching cribs, carriers, strollers and even changing tables. They had researched, made charts, gone out and did stress tests (the image of Thor and Steve attempting to destroy high chairs with their super strength had gone viral).
Darcy and Steve had everything the needed. The nursery was all set up The closets were all full of clothing. But Bucky held out the plastic bag to her with such a charming smile that she couldn’t even think about scolding him. She opened up the bag he had obtained from a cheap tourist gift shop and pulled out a tiny little onesie that was a mock up of Steve’s uniform.
“I love it, thank you, Bucky,” Darcy held out her arms and got a hug.
“It’s my pleasure, doll,” Bucky insisted. “Can’t wait to see the little bug in it.”
“So Bruce says you’re measuring kind of big for eight months,” Tony put in. “The super soldier spawn has to be running out of room.”
“If this is your attempt to try and get a better handle on the due date to place your bet, you should try harder,” Natasha appeared out of thin air, handing Darcy a dainty cup full of tea. “Besides, you know I’m winning all the bets.”
Tony glared at the spy, because it was true. The sex of the baby, the periodic measuring of Darcy’s baby, even whatever Darcy would be craving that week, Natasha always knew.
Darcy turned to Natasha curiously and asked, “Seriously, though. When? Because I feel like a whale, and this summer is already hot enough.”
Natasha whispered something in her ear and Darcy grinned from ear to ear.
Caroline Sarah Rogers was named after both of her grandmothers, and was born on the Fourth of July, just like her old man. She had her father’s hair color and her mother’s eyes, her grandmother Sarah’s nose and her lovely little ears of Darcy’s beloved grandfather.
Natasha had won every pool based on the baby. From the birth time of 11:07 at night, to the 21 inch length and the 6 pound 11 ounce weight. There was one thing the Avenger’s group was not willing to bet on, and it was the outfit little Caroline would be wearing. The dress had to be carefully pinned around the little baby in order to even look like it fit. One lucky paparazzi got a shot of her in it as Steve transferred her into her carseat. The bold red of the ladybug dress was lovely on the beautiful little baby.
Three weeks later, a package arrived from France and was delivered by Natasha herself. When Steve opened it up, he let out a breathless laugh before pulling out the red, white and blue ruffles. He held it up to his tiny baby, who stared back at him in her contentment.
“What do you think, Caroline?”
The baby only made a cooing noise in return.
“Definitely star spangly enough,” Darcy nodded as she walked into the room and placed a bottle of pumped breast milk into the fridge. She walked behind steve and wrapped her arms around him and grinned down at her daughter, who had a different ladybug onesie on that Tony had actually gifted them with. She pressed a kiss to Steve’s mouth before smiling up at him, “You happy, honey?”
“More than I ever thought possible.”