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On one ordinary Thursday morning in midsummer, Darcy found herself wide awake at six in the morning after a spectacularly vivid night terror (fuck you, Malekith, and your little elves too), so she shuffled half-asleep into the common kitchen to find breakfast.
Darcy pulled a box of Froot Loops out of the pantry and shook out a generous serving into an oversized mug. She splashed in some milk and jammed in a spoon before shuffling over to the space-age coffee maker/espresso machine/fountain of youth that Tony Stark insisted was The Best. She shoved a spoonful of cereal into her mouth and chewed as she stared down the machine.
Although Tony claimed the thing wasn’t actually sentient, it had a tendency to rebel first thing in the morning, so Darcy had developed a habit of staring the contraption into submission and psyching herself up every morning before turning it on. (She needed caffeine, okay, but by the third time the machine managed to spray her with hot milk, hot water, or hot coffee, she had learned her lesson.)
She took a deep breath, added coffee grounds, checked the water levels, ensured that there was no milk to be heated or frothed, and then pushed the proper series of buttons for hair-raisingly strong black coffee. She gave it a single encouraging pat and then shoved another spoonful of cereal into her mouth.
When the machine started to hiss at the wrong point in the process, Darcy smacked the particular spot on the side that always seemed to get it back on track. When it hissed again, Darcy hissed back and muttered, “So help me God, Carlo, if you don’t get your shit together I don’t care what Tony Stark thinks constitutes a decent coffee maker, I will throw you off the roof of this Tower and buy a french press. I will replace you with a goddamned antique Bialetti, see if I don’t, you space-age hunk of garbage.” On the last word, she smacked the magic spot again, and the machine gurgled once, twice, and then settled back into the proper routine noises.
Darcy gave the machine an affirming pat and cooed, “Grazie, Carlo.”
“Miss Darcy, may I remind you that Sir has forbade you from throwing the coffee maker off the roof and has requested that you cease to refer to it as Carlo?”
“J, the man paid close to a thousand dollars for a machine that I have to smack on the side for it to properly calibrate and won’t admit that he messed up when he attempted to ‘enhance’ it with his magical engineering skills. And I am not going to let a man who named his robotic helpers DUM-E, You, and Butterfingers tell me what to call the coffee machine. If I have to continue to interact with this demonic hunk of Italian engineering I will call it whatever I see fit, considering Tony never makes his own coffee.” The machine gave a cheery beep, indicating that the coffee was done brewing, so Darcy pulled out an empty mug and filled it to the brim before squeezing in a generous amount of agave nectar and stirring absentmindedly.
“Sir maintains that although his modifications have resulted in a more temperamental machine, that the coffee does taste better.”
“The coffee tastes better because I switched the grocery order to single-origin fair-trade organic Costa Rican grounds instead of the Dunkin’ Donuts house blend. Tony may have more money than God but he has the palette of a college freshman when he sets his mind to it.”
“Says the lady eating Froot Loops for breakfast.”
“J, amore mio, it is not even 6:30 am and I am awake because of Dark Elves, so I will consume all the sugary breakfast cereal I please.”
Darcy turned to exit the kitchen only to find two super-soldiers standing at the breakfast bar looking both amused and wary. “Okay, how long have you two been standing there?”
Bucky shrugged, but Steve managed to get out, while clearly trying to keep a straight face, “A while.”
Darcy sighed. “Look, I know that you don’t believe me, but Carlo is possessed by some kind of demon. But there’s fresh coffee now if you boys want some. Just don’t push any buttons or adjust any levers.”
She made it around the corner before she realized that boys + super serum meant that they probably wouldn’t take her warning seriously, so she popped her head back around the corner. “I was serious about the coffee maker, guys, don’t test it. No matter what kind of super-healing magic you’ve got in those veins.”
A few minutes after Darcy had disappeared down the hallway, Bucky turned to Steve. “What does she think that coffee maker is gonna do to us?”
Steve shook his head and carefully poured himself a cup of coffee. “I don’t even want to know, Buck. Coffee?”
***
Darcy made it to Jane’s lab that day by 8 am and started working to a JARVIS-curated playlist. By the time Jane came in at 10, it was obvious that Darcy’s eyes were bloodshot, her caffeine intake was through the roof, and she was yawning every few minutes. Jane let it go for a few hours, but when Darcy slumped across the lab table and tried to read her screen sideways, Jane called in the big guns.
Thor swept into the lab ten minutes after Jane’s text, bearing fresh coffee for Jane and a blanket for Darcy, who was summarily herded amongst murmured protests to the couch in the back corner. Darcy curled up with her head on Thor’s thigh while he brushed a hand through her hair until her breathing evened out and she fell asleep.
Darcy managed a solid 45 minutes of napping before the red mist crept into her dreams and she startled awake, only to calm under the steadying weight of Thor’s giant hand on her shoulder and the fleece blanket wrapped around her and Vivaldi playing softly over the lab speakers.
“You are not sleeping well, little one.”
Darcy burrowed further into her blanket cocoon. “Bad dreams. Sorry if I drooled on your sweatpants.”
Thor combed his fingers through Darcy’s hair and chuckled. “It is no matter if you did. But I worry about these dreams. Have they decreased in frequency whatsoever?”
Darcy huffed out a small “no” and preened under his ministrations.
Jane wandered over and propped a hip on the arm of the couch. “As adorable as this little vignette is, and as many pictures as I took before you woke up, would you sleep any better in your own bed?”
Darcy groaned. “No, you know I sleep better when I’m around other people. Besides, my best bet for a good night’s sleep is to exhaust myself today. No more napping and I’ll have to cut off my caffeine intake around 3. If I’m really desperate I’ll do a couple shots of vodka before bed.”
“Coming from the woman who has lectured me about my vitamin intake for years and all but force-fed me oranges because she was a afraid I would come down with scurvy, doesn’t that strike you as the tiniest bit hypocritical?”
“Vodka doesn’t give you scurvy, Jane.”
Thor tugged gently on a lock of her hair.
“Okay, if it makes you feel any better, I hardly ever resort to substance abuse. Only if I have more than two bad nights in a week, which is very rare. I promise.” She pressed her head back into Thor’s palm. “Play with my hair some more?”
Jane tapped the tip of her index finger to Darcy’s nose. “Sometimes I wonder if you’re part cat.”
Darcy burrowed her face into Thor’s thigh and sighed, mumbling, “Would be nice. Cats are nice.”
Jane fondly rolled her eyes and headed back to her computer. “So much for not napping. She’ll be out in under a minute.”
***
Although Darcy wasn’t actually part cat, most of the Tower’s residents were well aware that she was prone to napping anywhere at any time, especially in the warm patches of sunlight from the Tower’s many windows. Anyone who shared a couch with Darcy on movie nights knew that she would fall asleep with her head on their shoulder or lap. Natasha had been a particular favorite before she had to leave the Tower for Spy Reasons (Natasha gave the best head scratches) but Jane and Thor were the usual victims nowadays.
Sam Wilson was Darcy’s latest victim.
She had no intention of falling asleep when she plopped down next to him on the couch to join him in marathoning episodes of Cupcake Wars. But she had been assisting Jane with astronomical observations on the roof into the wee hours of the morning and she was so tired, and she had already seen the episode for the aquarium and she just kind of…slid down.
And now Sam was stuck with a brunette science wrangler in his lap when he was supposed to meet Steve for training in the gym ten minutes ago.
Sam: looks like I’m not gonna make it to the gym this afternoon
Steve: you alright?
Sam: just got held up in the common room. can’t move
Steve: ???
Steve appeared only a few minutes later and slowed to a stop at the entrance to the room when he spotted Darcy curled up in the fetal position with her head cushioned on Sam’s lap.
“How long has she been like that?”
“I think she fell asleep about thirty minutes ago. She was mumbling something about late night science-time on the roof.”
Bucky wandered into the room behind Steve and cocked his head to the side in confusion. “She okay?”
Sam waved off his concern. “Darcy’s just taking a nap.”
Bucky seemed to accept that answer but then squinted at Sam. “You okay?”
“My leg is starting to fall asleep, but I’ve had worse.”
Steve glanced over at one of the throw pillows. “What if you eased out from under her and slid the pillow under her head?”
Sam glared at him. “I can’t do that!”
“Why not?”
“Because she’ll know!”
“So what?”
“This is an overture of friendship, Steve, okay, it means that she thinks that we are friends, and if I up and leave, it will seem like a rejection of her friendship. And despite the fact that my leg is going to have pins and needles like a son of a bitch when she wakes up, I am honored by that trust and I am not an asshole.”
Steve held up his hands in a ‘who me?’ gesture. “Okay, don’t move.”
Darcy, who was now semi-conscious, clumsily patted Sam’s knee and mumbled, “You’re a good person, but not as quiet as you think. Gimme a sec and I’ll get up.” She yawned widely and slowly pushed herself off his lap to lean back against the couch, pushing her hair out of her face. “S’rry. Habit from when I was younger. I sleep better when someone else is around. Haven’t really adjusted to having my own room.”
Sam waved off her apology. “I got two younger siblings who used to do it all the time growing up, so believe me, I’m used to it. Anytime you need a pillow, you know who to call.”
Darcy smiled. “I’ll add you to the list of approved pillows.”
***
Natasha did not bother to notify anyone that she was coming back to the Tower, but simply showed up one day, as super-spies were wont to do.
Darcy found out when she awoke one Wednesday morning to find herself pressed against Natasha’s thigh. She looked up to see the other woman was sitting against the headboard, her own eyes closed—resting but not asleep.
“This is kind of a weird way to let me know you’re home.”
The redhead cracked open one eye and looked down at Darcy. “I came straight here after I dropped off my bag, but I didn’t want to wake you up. JARVIS told me you’ve been napping more often than usual and you aren’t sleeping well at night.”
Darcy sighed and burrowed her face into Natasha’s legging-clad thigh. “Tattletale.” Natasha started to run her fingers along Darcy’s scalp, lightly scratching, waiting until Darcy felt she had to fill the silence. “Bucky Barnes is back.”
“I know.”
“Of course you do. I did a lot of research into his captivity, using the files you leaked.” There was the barest hitch in the smooth rhythm of Natasha’s fingers, a tell that Darcy knew Natasha had allowed her to see. “That kind of stuff can make it hard to sleep.”
“Especially when you’re alone, and no one is here to watch over you."
“S’stupid. I’m in the safest building in the country, nothing’s gonna happen to me if I sleep in my own room alone.”
Natasha shrugged. “Habits are hard to break. I’m sorry I was away for so long, milaya.”
“Missed you. Need you to glare at Steve when he won’t let me do stuff.”
That earned Darcy a firm poke to her shoulder blade. “I’m not going to leave you alone with James either until I’m sure you are safe.” Darcy grumbled quietly. “You trust me to look after you while you sleep. I need to do it while you are awake. For me.”
Darcy heard the unspoken plea: I care about you and it scares me. You’re fragile and it scares me. I left you alone and an assassin came into this tower and I wasn’t here to protect you and it scares me.
“Fine. Just for you.”
“Spasibo. Now sleep, little one. We’ll let the others know I’m back when you wake up.”
With Natasha’s warmth next to her, Darcy slept better in her own bed than she had in ages, so they went down to get breakfast from the common kitchen a little later than normal.
Clint was already there, hunched over a ridiculously huge bowl of cereal at the breakfast bar.
Clint noticed the two women and raised his spoon in greeting. “Good morning to my favorite terrifyingly competent duo, reunited once more.”
Darcy sidled up next to him and glanced down into his cereal bowl, groaning in disgust and looking up at Natasha to complain, “He used his cappuccino for milk again. I thought you fixed this.”
Natasha calmly walked up to Clint and smacked him on the back of the head.
He squawked indignantly. “But it’s more efficient! I get coffee and breakfast at the same time. Shouldn’t you be supportive of my efficiency?”
“It’s disgusting, ptichka. And a waste of good coffee.”
Darcy nodded emphatically. “Exactly. She gets it.”
Clint slumped dramatically to rest his head on the breakfast bar, barely missing his bowl. “I’d forgotten how much worse it is when there are two of you.”
Darcy snorted. “I think you mean better, birdbrain.”