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“Hey Rogers, got a mission for you.” Natasha stepped in front of the couch where Steve had been sketching in the common room in the tower. Life had been quiet since the Ultron fiasco and Steve found himself with more free time than he had since before World War II. He’d even started growing out a beard.
He closed the notebook, careful to not smudge the graphite. He set it aside and turned his focus to the assassin in front of him. Amusement crinkled her eyes, and Steve cocked an eyebrow.
“Sitrep?”
“Not that type.” She walked back towards the elevator. Steve stood quickly, his long legs quickly catching up with her. “Protective detail.”
They stepped into the elevator, JARVIS seeming to already know where Natasha wanted to go.
“I don’t usually get pulled for that.”
“Special case.” Came the terse reply.
He frowned when the doors opened on the level that held his quarters. Natasha strode towards his door, turning to stare at him with a look that said well?
He swiped his palm across the access pad and the door audibly unlocked. He pushed the door open, gesturing sarcastically for Natasha to precede him. “Assassins first.”
“Cute, Rogers.” Natasha smirked while she strode into his apartment. In the time that Steve had moved into the tower after the fall of SHIELD, he had made the high tech rooms his own. Sure there was the overly large STARK television mounted to the ceiling, his kitchen also reflecting the STARK landlordship, and furniture that probably cost more than he ever made in 1942. But there was also evidence of him: framed sketches of artwork hung on the wall, model motorcycles on the endtables, and an easel propped up against the floor to ceiling windows.
Natasha bypassed his living room and headed into his bedroom.
“Nat?” He watched the woman going through his closet, seeming to evaluate his clothes before finally pulling out a pair of modern jeans he never wears and the blue shirt that replaced the one he was wearing when Ultron activated. She tossed them on his bed before turning to the drawer he hardly needed to use. It contained small accessories that were deemed necessary to deflect recognition when he went undercover. Her fingers skimmed over the options before settling on black rimmed glasses.
“Get dressed and I’ll fill you in.” Nat said as she handed him the glasses.
He grabbed them from her, tossing them on the bed next to the clothes. He didn’t bother asking her to leave while he changed. Last time he did that, she had smirked and leered at him while he awkwardly fumbled into his uniform’s pants.
“You’re escorting an asset tonight.”
He tucked in the shirt and had pushed the sleeves up to his elbows, thanking silently the tailor Tony used for his shirts. He snagged a belt from behind Nat, who stood in front of his closet and appraised him. She nodded her approval.
“Wear the black shoes. You’ll be on your feet a lot.” She nodded to the pair she meant before continuing. “Should be an interesting op, not like you’re used too. I’d do it, but I’m headed out on my own.”
Steve smirked at the annoyance in her tone. “Maybe next time? What else?” He’d toed on the shoes and pulled the glasses on. Natasha cocked her head before she reached out and unbuttoned the top two buttons of the shirt with a nod.
“You’ll want to take your bike. Your cover is casual, and the op shouldn’t warrant the need of an SUV.”
“In and out?”
The two of them walked back through his apartment, Steve grabbed his leather jacket before heading back into the hallway with the elevator.
“In a sense. You’ll probably end up escorting her to multiple places. Your job is to keep her out of too much trouble. She’s got lead, though.”
“Who am I working with? Coms?”
Natasha waved off the last question as they stepped back into the elevator. As it descended, she answered. “Civilian, but she’s solid.”
“What’s a civilian doing leading an op?” He ran his hand through his hair, and wondered about the mission. Usually Nat’s missions had more intel.
“Like I said, it’ll be interesting.” The doors slid open and she stepped out with a shrug. “Hell Rogers, you might even have fun.”
They walked towards the door, even this late in the evening the Avengers Tower’s lobby was active. Steve spotted who had to be the civilian lead, her back to them. She was dressed differently than the rest of those in the lobby. Where the people who rushed around her wore suits or security uniforms, she wore something that attempted to be a dress. The metallic dress hugged curves that were straight out of the 1940’s pin-up girls and was held up by two thin pieces of lace over her shoulders in a way that baffled Steve. Her hair piled on top of her head, and she was wearing black heels he was sure he’d seen Pepper wearing at some point.
“Darcy.”
The girl turned around when Natasha called out, still looking at her StarkPhone. “Still can’t believe you’re bailing on me. Do you know how hard it is to get an Uber at this time of night? The rates are ridiculous.”
“Got you a ride. And security.”
“Score.” She still was typing away, not having bothered to look up. “Jack-booted? They won’t cramp my style will they?”
“He’s what you call old school.” Natasha full on grinned, and Steve rolled his eyes.
“Great. Whateves,” Darcy frowned at whatever she was looking at before she turned the phone off with a huff and looked up. “For reals, bro?”
Steve bristled at the tone. He recognized Darcy from Dr. Foster’s lab and knew that Tony and Bruce spoke highly of her. He figured if the op had to be run by a civilian, at least it was one that could handle three scientists.
“He’ll be fine.”
“Dude. I can’t take Captain America!”
Nat turned to Steve, who started to feel the lack of intel on the op. “You’re not. You’re taking Steve.”
Darcy crossed her arms and studied Steve, who tried to avoid looking at the impressive display of cleavage.
“Dude, Nat. He can’t even look at me. How’s he going to handle where I’m going?”
Before Natasha could answer, he spoke up. “I’m sure I can handle whatever location the op takes us to. I have done this before.”
Darcy cocked an eyebrow and started to speak but Nat cut her off.
“Darce—Steve will be fine. He knows you have lead and he’ll keep you out of the worst of the trouble.”
Darcy checked the time on her phone before sighing. “Fine. But if I come back with a broken Captain it’s on your head.”
“Absolutely.” Natasha made shooing motions. “Now go, and don’t come back until the mission’s complete.”
Before Steve could ask what the redhead meant, Darcy was stalking out of the tower doors and Steve moved to follow her.
He realized that Natasha must have had someone bring up his bike, since it was out front with the valet. Darcy whistled as she saw it. “Fun ride.”
“Always.” Steve quipped before realizing what it sounded like causing him to blush. He tried to cover it by throwing his leg over the bike before offering her a hand.
“You’re cute.” Darcy smirked. “Now, let’s see if we can start the night off right with me keeping my lady bits private on this bike.” Darcy grabbed his hand, and used the other to keep her dress pulled down as her climbed on behind him.
“Where we going?” He asked as he felt her settle in behind him, her arms holding onto his open jacket. He glanced down at her legs squeezing him and he felt his face flush when he realized he couldn’t see her dress.
“Gansevoort and 9th.”
He kicked the motorcycle into life and sped them off into the evening traffic.
“We’re close enough,” Darcy called out over the sound of New York traffic. “Just park wherever.”
Steve wanted to roll his eyes and argue. You shouldn’t “just park wherever” on a mission. But Natasha said that Darcy was solid and was lead so he pulled into a spot vacated by taxi. He felt Darcy clamber off of the bike as soon as he kicked the stand down with a shout of glee.
“Fun ride.” Darcy headed off to a building a that was brightly light with neon signs and a crowd in front of the doors. Steve kept up, he walked just behind and to the left of her, scanning the crowd for hostiles.
She bypassed the crowd, walking instead to the velvet rope and speaking to a heavy set man wearing a flack jacket. Steve felt his shoulders tense as the man bent down to listen to her before checking a clipboard he pulled from a stand off to the side. Flipping through it, he looked up at Steve—scanning down his body. Steve waited to be recognized, but if the man made the connection he didn’t let it show. He waved them through and Darcy offered the man a high five before grabbing Steve’s arm and hauling him in.
Music assaulted them, the only light coming from colored lights scanning the crowded space in a random pattern.
Darcy pulled him over to a closet that a woman stood in front of with a bored look on her face. “Check your coat man, you don’t need it.”
He followed her orders, shrugging it off and started to hand it to the bored woman.
“Oh wait! Here, put my wallet in there.” Darcy pulled out a black card, Steve suspected a Stark Card, before stuffing the wallet in the pocket of Steve’s jacket. Steve pulled out a five from his wallet, handing it to the woman who in trade gave him a paper ticket with a number on it.
Steve turned back to Darcy, who was busy stuffing her phone and the card into her chest. She caught his look and she shrugged. “Might as well make use of them. Come on, we need to get to the bar. You’re big so you can cut through the crowd.”
Steve looked over her, looking for the bar. It wasn’t that far away, but Darcy was right about the crowd. He moved around her, and felt her snag a belt loop to stick close to him. He mentally shrugged, whatever it took to keep her close.
He felt it took too long by the time they made it to the counter, but Darcy perched her elbows on the bar top with a grin. “Man, I gotta bring you with me more often. We basically flew through that crowd. High five.”
He snorted as he high fived her carefully before leaning up against the bartop, eyes scanning the crowd. He took in the loud, modern “dance” music, feeling the bass reverberate through him. People dancing, bodies pressed together without a care for personal space or other dancers. It baffled him, though he wouldn’t admit it seemed an easier style of dance than the 1940’s. Classy? That was another thing.
“Whatcha want, Steve?” Darcy drew his attention back to her, the bartender approaching.
“I’ll take what’s on tap.”
Darcy laughed. “Yeah, they don’t do that here. PBR it is. And shots!” She turned back to the bartender who leaned forward to hear her order.
“Can I get four kamikazes and two tallboy PBR’s?” The bartender hesitated and Darcy shoved the black card forward. “Keep a girl hooked up and there’s a huge tip in it from Tony Stark. Keep it open.”
Steve startled at that, name dropping Tony on an op. But the bartender only nodded before taking the card. It was a short moment later before there were two beers and four shots lined up in front of them.
“Here,” Darcy pushed two of the pale green shots over to him. He stared at it dubiously, “You know this won’t affect me?”
Darcy stared at him, eyes blinking. “Shitty luck, dude.” She pulled one back. “Well, they taste good. And you can’t not drink while we’re out. Cheers”
They knocked the shot glasses together before they tossed them back. The two other shots were downed in quick succession by Darcy.
“Want to fill me in?” Steve figured he could ply her for more intel on the op. He figured, given the setting, it was some type of intel collection or drop pick up.
“I am about four shots too sober to do that, my good man.” Darcy stared at the dance floor as she sipped from the can in her hand. Steve grimaced after a taste of it, thinking it may as well have been soured water. Darcy gave him a knowing glance.
The music changed, the crowd in front of them yelling.
“This is my jam! Hold my beer, Steve. Don’t get roofied!”
Before Steve could tell her to wait, Darcy dropped her beer on the counter beside him and shoved her way through the crowd surrounding the bar and onto the dance floor.
Steve pushed his way more slowly towards the dance floor, using his disapproving glare—slightly obscured by the glasses but still effective to get a spot with his back against a pillar. From his spot he had line of sights on two exits and Darcy. She had spotted him, but didn’t move off the floor so Steve settled in with the beers and kept watch.
After dancing for two songs, Darcy made her way over to Steve’s spot making grabby hands at the beer in his left hand. She pulled a face after taking a long drink, handing it back to Steve. “Do you dance, Grandpa?”
“Probably shouldn’t, kiddo.” Steve’s dry tone was lost from the need to practically shout to be heard.
“Good one.” She pushed him towards the bar. “Lead on then. This girl needs more vodka.”
“Are you sure that’s a good idea?” Steve asked, before looking around. He felt eyes on him, but when he found the person, he realized it was a group of young women blatantly ogling him. He ducked his head to the side, trying to avoid their gaze.
“Nope, but that’s the idea.” Darcy leaned forward over the bar, waving at the bartender. She held up four fingers and thumbs-ed-up the man when he nodded.
Steve felt the women gaze again, and Darcy looked over her shoulder and laughed. “You should dance, my man. Get into the op, as you called it.”
“You haven’t told me what the op is, Darcy.”
The bartender dropped four more shots in front of Darcy, this time a different color. Darcy didn’t question it, just slid two over to Steve. “Appearances.” She nodded towards the glasses. She tossed the two back, and he followed suit.
“It’s called Operation Cease and Desist.”
“And it requires you to be drunk?”
“Abso-fucking-lutely.”
Steve stared at Darcy, who had begun to stare at the empty shot glasses, finger running across a rim. “Am I a babysitter?”
Darcy grimaced. “Normally, Nat comes out with me. We get drunk. I don’t think about the shitty break up I just had. We flirt with guys and then head back to the tower when I can’t think about him anymore.” She refused to meet his eye.
Steve lifted a hand to catch the bartender and gestured for him. “Four shots of silver tequila. The good stuff.” He turned to Darcy, who was looking at him with her wide blue eyes. “Do you need training wheels?”
She nodded, and the bartender set four shot glasses rimmed with salt in a row, pouring the clear liquid into them as he set out limes. Steve waved off his.
“Really?” Darcy had a guarded expression, and Steve put a shot in her hand and picked up his.
“I’m familiar with drowning sorrows.”
“I’m not sad,” Darcy defended herself. “I just want to forget about the fucker.”
“I can drink to that.”
“Steeeeeeeve,” Darcy dragged out his name, shoving his shoulder with a laugh. They had moved back to the pillar Steve had found earlier in the night. The crowd had gotten thicker and more intoxicated, but Darcy only reveled in it. The pillar was against a small stage where other women were dancing and the subject of Darcy’s teasing.
“So you’re not even tempted to look up their skirts?”
He shook his head, laughing at her. “It’s nothing I haven’t seen before, doll.”
Darcy fake gasped, hand covering her chest in enthusiastic shock. Steve had to reach out and settle her with a hand on her hip. “Steve! Did you make congress with the beast outside of marriage?”
He rolled his eyes. “Don’t start that.”
“Selfie!” Drunk Darcy changed topics quicker than sober Darcy, much to Steve’s amusement. She twisted around, Steve legitimately concerned for the safety of her ankles in those heels, and she pressed her back up against his chest, her head tilted to the side with a cheery grin. He tucked his head down next to hers, giving her outstretched phone his signature “Captain America” poster grin.
“Silly faces now!” She closed one eye, cocking a lip up in a pirate like scowl. Steve sucked is cheeks in, crossing his eyes at the same time. Darcy clicked the phone, turning it around and cackling at the ridiculous image of the two of them.
“Dance!” She shoved her phone back in the front of her dress, making grabbing hands at him.
He waved her off. “Please, you don’t want that!”
“Please?” She bit her lip, widening her eyes in an adorably pathetic expression.
“You’ll have more fun without me, I promise.”
“Party pooper! Go get me another shot then!” Darcy pushed herself back into the crowd and Steve watched her go, wanting to get her location before he moved to the bar.
He had to admit that Natasha was right. He was having fun tonight. Darcy treated him like a normal man, demanding he keep up with her. No one had recognized him, which made a part of him question how bright this generation must be if a short beard and glasses could fool people.
She had found a spot wide enough for her to dance and Steve let his eyes linger on her. She was a spitfire, as quick to laugh as to throw out a sarcastic comment. Steve also had a healthy appreciation for her curves, so different from the deadly lean bodies of the women he worked regularly with. Natasha and Maria were certainly attractive, he wouldn’t deny that, but Darcy had a body that was more similar to the appreciation of his generation.
Apparently, he wasn’t the only one to appreciate her curves. A man sidled up behind her, not the first one of the night. He waited for Darcy to shake her head at him, pushing him gently away like she had the others. But this guy made Steve’s jaw tighten when he kept pushing, wrapping his arms around Darcy’s waist.
She scowled up at him, hands on the guy’s chest trying to shove him off as he tried to grind his hips into hers.
Steve pushed through the crowd, uncaring about stepping on any toes, literally or metaphorically.
He slid one arm around Darcy’s waist, pulling her back against him as he used the other hand to grip the man’s shoulder. He pushed him away firmly, glaring at him. “She doesn’t want to dance with you.”
“Sorry, bro. Didn’t know she was yours.”
The guy melted back into the crowd before Steve could say anything.
“Fuck that dude. I’m no man’s! That dude was lucky I’m not allowed a taser in the city limits.” Darcy was scowling. Steve started to pull away from her. “Nope. You have to dance now. You’re on the floor.”
“Darcy, the last time I danced it was swing and it was terrible.” Steve tried to get out of it.
“Psh, this style is easy. You basically just act like you’re having sex. To music. Surrounded by other people.” Darcy turned to face him, moving his other arm to her waist. She threw one arm over his shoulder, gripping his shirt and holding onto his bicep with the other arm. She slid one leg between his, bringing their hips closer. “It’s easy. Just move with me.”
Steve swallowed at the feeling of her hips gyrating just above his thigh as he awkwardly tried to match her movements. He must not have been doing too badly since Darcy closed her eyes, smiling.
Steve couldn’t get drunk, but he certainly felt like he was once he fell into Darcy’s rhythm. The music, fast paced with a deep beat vibrated through the crowed. The lighting was darker here on the dance floor, the strobe lights flashing in sync with the music. The crowd pressed against them but ignoring Steve and Darcy, just as they ignored them. Steve felt light headed and out of breath and he was sure it was because of the woman who’d dragged him into her fire and not the physical exertion of the dancing.
He risked pulling her closer against him, their hips touching. Darcy responded by bringing her hands up, locking them behind his neck. He couldn’t help watching her face as she lost herself in the music. Her hair had begun to fall from where it had been pinned to the top of her head, strands of the dark hair plastered to her face which had a sheen of sweat. Steve wrapped one arm completely around her waist, bringing up a hand to wipe the hair out of her eyes.
Her eyes opened and stared into his. His stomach dropped, heat racing through him at the look she gave him, and he paused with his hand still resting on the side of her face, their bodies still dancing.
“Let’s get out of here.” Darcy said, Steve reading her lips more than hearing it. He nodded, straightening and grabbing her hand to lead her off the floor.
They were quiet as they made their way to the bar to close their tab. He left to grab his coat and her wallet as Darcy signed the receipt, adding on the extremely generous tip she had promised at the beginning of the night.
She met him at the door, shivering in the cold air coming through the entrance. He dropped the jacket around her shoulders, and she clutched it close with a shy grin before taking hold of the arm he offered her.
They pushed their way through the nightlife crowd of New York to his parked bike. Steve was glad they’d found a spot only two blocks away. He could feel Darcy stumbling at his side. When they got there, he practically picked Darcy up and set her on the bike which amused her so much she nearly fell off laughing. She tucked her arms through the jacket’s sleeves as he sat in front of her. She wrapped her arms around his waist, tucking closer to him than on the ride over and setting her face over his shoulder.
“Take me somewhere fun!”
Her hot breath washed over his ear, ruffling his hair gently and felt as if liquid fire poured between anywhere they touched. Which was basically his entire torso and thighs, with how closely Darcy had pushed herself against him.
“Yes ma’am.” Steve pulled out onto the road. Traffic wasn’t nearly as bad, being nearly two in the morning. But it was New York, and the city lived up to it’s title of never sleeping. Steve weaved in between taxis, spurred on by the whoops of excitement from the the woman clinging to him. She unwrapped one hand, holding it up while leaning back with enjoyment.
Steve wasn’t going to admit that he took a corner tighter than he needed to so that she wrapped both arms back around him.
“Faster!” She urged him and the adrenaline junkie couldn’t deny her as he pointed them out of downtown and towards Brooklyn.
“That was amazing.” Darcy pulled herself off the back of the motorcycle, using the hand he offered to keep herself steady. “Where are we?” She looked up at the brick fronted diner Steve had stopped in front of. Through the window she could see a few older men at a counter hunched over coffee mugs.
“Papa Joe’s. Best pancakes in Brooklyn.” Steve explained, arm around her shoulders guiding her to the door which he opened for her.
“Oh good, I’m starving.” She saw the “Please Seat Yourself” sign and plopped down in the booth against the front window. The light blue vinyl creaked as Steve sat across from her. She fished out her phone, “Smile!” Steve gave her a disapproving glare earning a chuckle from her. “That is so going to be your contact photo.”
A tired looking heavy set man with a white apron approached with two white mugs and a pot of coffee.
“My hero!” Darcy sighed as she the waiter poured the coffee into her mug with a grin.
“What’ll it take to steal you away from this chum?” He asked with a chuckle.
“Can you do strawberries and whipped cream on pancakes, with extra strawberries?” Darcy tucked her hands under her chin and batted her eyelashes up at the man, causing Steve to laugh.
“For you, I would do anything.”
“Awe, shucks.” She waved off his smile and he turned to Steve. “Your usual?”
“That’ll be great, Frank.”
The waiter wandered back behind the counter, putting their order in.
“Usual, huh?”
“I stop in every now and then after my morning run.”
Darcy dropped her phone, which she’d been fiddling with. “Morning run? Dude, we’re at least fifteen miles from the tower.”
“Twenty-four, actually.”
“That’s disgusting.”
Steve rolled his eyes, taking a sip of coffee as he watched Darcy pour packets of sugar into her mug before topping it off with creamer.
A pleasant silence fell between them again as they stared out the window. The sky was beginning to lighten, but the city was still mostly asleep. The occasional jogger or night shift worker would pass the window, catching their attention briefly.
“So . . .” Darcy started, but trailed off staring at the coffee mug she gripped with both hands.
“Yeah?” He nudged her foot gently with a toe.
“Why didn’t we just go back to the tower?” She asked in a rush, blushing.
He sighed, running a hand through his hair as he leaned back against the booth.
“Because of Operation Cease and Desist.”
“What?” Darcy’s brows furrowed.
“Call me old fashioned, but I’m not about to take a dame home who’d spent the night drinking to forget another man.”
“Oh.” Darcy dropped her head, hiding from his gaze.
“Doesn’t mean I didn’t want too, Darcy.” Steve thought Bucky would be proud of how even he kept his voice. Hell, Steve thought, Buck would just be proud I’d talked to a damn this long.
Darcy met his eyes, a soft smile on her face. She dug around in his jacket, pulling out her wallet to retrieve a hair tie. She quickly fixed her hair, pulling it back from where it had escaped while dancing and then the ride over.
“So when do you usually take a damn home?” She seemed to relax, sipping at her sugary coffee.
“Usually at least after dinner.”
They were interrupted as Frank returned, arms loaded with plates. Darcy squealed when she saw the amount of strawberries and whipped cream piled on top of the three pancakes.
“Was the mission a success?” Steve asked, after taking a few bites of his omelette.
“Most definitely.” Darcy offered Steve a fork full of whipped cream. He leaned forward, eyes locked with her’s as he let her feed him the sweet topping. “Bonus of the added adventure to amazing pancakes, I’m sober and won’t have to worry about a hangover!”
“That’s definitely not something I miss.”
“Jerk.” Darcy kicked him gently in the shin, before leaving her leg pressed up against him.
“So, do you ever take a dame home after breakfast?”
Steve nearly choked on the coffee he’d been taking a drink of when she asked that. He set the cup down, meeting her devious smirk with one of his own.
“I never have, but I wouldn’t mind trying that out. Think I could find a dame willing?”
“Hmm,” Darcy tapped a finger against her lips as if she were thinking. “I think I know a gal. But she’s pretty modern so she’d want to take you to lunch at her favorite sushi place after.”
Steve chuckled, earning a grin from the woman across from him. “I could handle that.”
“Great.” Darcy grabbed her phone, tapping at the screen. Steve cocked his head, interested. “Letting Nat know that I’m keeping you for a new op. And that you won’t be available for the rest of the day.”
“Rest of the day, huh?”
“You have no idea what I have planned for you, Steve.” Darcy challenged him, rubbing her leg gently up against his.
“Looking forward to it, doll.”