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The New Year has officially been welcomed in and after hours of celebrating what everyone hopes is going to be a better year than the one they've just had, Darcy is done for the night. She knows she's well passed tipsy and into if I don't stop soon, someone's going to end up having to hold my hair back territory, and the alcohol coursing through her system has made her sleepy enough to call it a night.
She's trudging up the stone steps to the brownstone apartment she shares with two college students (Darcy knows first hand how suck-ish the dorm situation can be, especially for a student from abroad, and took pity on a girl named Wanda and her hilariously annoying brother Pietro), and groans when she clasps the door handle in hand and tries to push her way inside.
It's locked. And knowing her roommates, it's Wanda who's locked up for the night given that Pietro was a notorious player and was most likely spending the night in someone else's bed.
"Nooo," she groans and whines a little while pawing at the door. So much for the sweet comfort of her bed.
And damn her sober self for not having the faintest idea to take her phone charger along with her and for leaving behind her house key. With no way of calling Wanda to open the door, Darcy can only huddle up on on the top step and pray that either Wanda wakes up and checks their doorstep or that Pietro shows up and opens the door for her.
She waits for what feels like hours, but is actually less than twenty minutes when she hears footsteps. Drowsily perking up, she's awake enough to see her neighbor- the college professor, she thinks- slowing to a stop at the bottom of the steps she's claimed for the night.
"Miss Lewis?" He calls out. "Are you okay?"
And, oh yeah, that's definitely Professor Banner. She'd recognize that voice anywhere, as well as the hair that was just a smidgen too long and curling at the ends. She'd had plenty of fantasies about this particular professor when she was a student herself, but thankfully she's a graduate now so it's not as weird. Or against any policy that could end up with her expelled or he fired.
"Hey, doc," she sleepily smiles and readjusts the skirt of dress. She'd admired the man once upon a time, but that doesn't mean she wants to scar the poor man. "What are you doing out so late? Don't you have papers to grade?"
Professor Banner chuckles and pulls a pair of thin-framed glasses from his jacket pocket, he fidgeting with them before absentmindedly wiping them with a small piece of cloth he's procured from somewhere. "Even professors are allowed to let loose once in a while, Miss Lewis."
Her lips twitch in amusement before her current predicament makes it way back to the forefront of her mind and she perks up a bit more. "Heya, doc, wanna do me a solid?"
Banner startles. "Excuse me?"
"A solid. Favor, 'ya know?"
"I'm well aware what it means, Miss Lewis. I was just-"
"Good," she blurts, effectively cutting him off. "'Cause in case you haven't noticed, it's passed three in the morning, my roommate's locked me out, I'm really drunk, so please.. please take pity on me, o'neighbor of mine. I need a place to crash for a few hours until Wanda wakes and unlocks the house."
"Oh. Um, okay..?" He cautiously agrees.
"Excellent." Darcy quickly scrambles to her feet, unknowingly flashing her panties to her ex-professor and stumbles down the steps. Banner is there to catch her, he blushing maddeningly when she beams up at him in thanks.
Darcy wakes to unwelcomed voices speaking above her.
"Bruce, you sly dog," someone teases. "Is that who I think it is?" There's a heavy sigh and then, "That Lewis girl, right? The one who always looked at you as if she were seconds away from climbing you like a tree?"
"Tony," Bruce heavily sighs. Again. And huh. Professor Stark is there, too. "No. Whatever you've concocted up in that brain of yours, just.. no. Nothing happened."
"She wearing your shirt says otherwise."
"She was drunk.. and locked out. I didn't want her to sleep in her dress. I've heard that's uncomfortable, so I gave her a shirt and she changed in the bathroom."
Tony roughly chuckles. "Brucie, Brucie, Brucie."
"For fuck's sake, man! Nothing happened." Darcy's had enough of her precious sleep being interrupted and pushes herself to sit up, she then turning around so she's facing the two elder men- one blushing and the other smugly grinning. "Not that I wouldn't be against it or anything," she says distractedly while waving in Bruce's general direction and then trying to smooth down her bed head as Tony cackles. "But, you know, like Professor Banner said.. I was drunk," she sheepishly shrugs. "There was no taking advantage of anyone last night, so shut up and let me go back to sleep."
Darcy plops herself face down on the pullout couch, letting Professor Stark's laughter wash over her. "Oh, Bruce, you're in way over your head."
There's an oomph! of pain before Bruce mutters, "Shut up, Tony. And no, I'm not."
Smiling to herself, Darcy mentally vows that she and a certain Professor were going to have a talk after she'd gotten rid of her hangover.