7:15 am. Stark residential suites.
Grunting, stretching, clawing through layers of blankets. That's how Darcy woke up; painfully aware that she'd slept on her stomach, breasts smooshed under her weight. Her apartment was wonderfully frigid and she stayed cocooned inside her little igloo of comforters longer than she should have, but that didn't matter. She was only going in to finish off the check list Jane needed for her vacation in the sky, as Darcy liked to put it.
Then it was her turn to take a brake from all the grunt work and unpacking and general scientist wrangling.
Said scientist, the lucky jerk, was going to Asgaurd with her model/god for some big secret festival. Thor had been pretty tight lipped about the whole thing which was weird but she didn't think too much about it out of sheer jealousy.
Darcy sighed dramatically, wondering when she was going to get in on some hunky, medieval action.
She snorted dryly, hauling herself out of bed and tossing her lack-of-man blues aside. She was in New-freaking-York, working for Iron-freaking-Man, rubbing metaphorical shoulders with The-freaking-Avengers. But the best part about her very new, and very well paying job?
The travel time.
8:05 am. Ten floors down.
Darcy waltzed into work in her pajama's, hair tied up in a messy black bun, and her favorite tattered slippers. She waved to the only other employee there, a rather silent, brooding looking man with a serious demeanor. But she smiled brightly anyway, and while he politely nodded, he quickly went back to his work, nearly face planting into the computer.
Yesh. These science people.
Shaking her head softly, Darcy started for her desk. The one she asked to be specifically facing the glorious window. The view from Stark tower was the nuts! You could literally see all of Manhattan. Buildings shooting up through the earth in magnificent architectural beauty. It made her itch to cruise around, explore. Maybe find herself a New York date.
She looked around the room, feeling strangely put out by all the metal and blinking lights. Without Jane, this place just seemed… medicinal. Clinical. Kinda lame.
So she opted to do her work in the kitchens/lounge; her second favorite spot in the luxurious towers. Grabbing her papers and her little notebook for doodling, Darcy headed to the private eating place that she was positive no one ever used as it was always empty. She smiled devilishly, hoping to finally use that fancy coffee maker she saw last time she snuck in there.
8:15 am. 15 floors up.
Normally one would need a special key card to get into the fancy kitchen area, which she assumed was Starks personal one. But really, she just couldn't see the dude whipping up an omelet. He'd order one. Right?
Your average employee would just assume it was off limits. Well, she wasn't the type to settle for such labels like "clearance needed" or "security personnel only".
Darcy had skillfully lifted (thanks pick pocketing ex-boyfriend for the lessons) Coulson's fancy black card a few weeks back knowing that it got him places faster. That little IPod thief had it coming. She could get almost anywhere that didn't need a finger or face scanner. This room included.
She sauntered in, flipping on the lights. This is why she loved it here. To her right was a 180 degree view, floor to ceiling windows that shows striking buildings piercing the sky as well as the lush green view of Central Park. It was quiet here in the large room, but warm and peaceful. Not cold and clinical like the lab often could be.
Darcy tossed her papers down on a table blindly, already thinking about different coffees and creamers to be had. But when she came to stand before the desired machine, a frown began to scrunch her face. The fucker had like, a million buttons with no instructions. Where was the manual when you needed one?
She started by filling the glass pot with the water. That was simple enough, but then she couldn't figure out where to put it. The lid didn't open and there wasn't any reasonable spot for pouring. So she stood there, one hand on her hip, the other holding a pot full of water, staring at the machine like it had personally insulted her. All she wanted was a simple cup of life saving coffee! Stupid newfangled Stark gadgets being way too complicated.
"I'm seriously too young to fell this old." She huffed pitifully, knowing the piece of crap didn't care about her uncaffinated woes.
"You're telling me." Replied a smooth deep voice from somewhere behind her.
Now, Darcy could keep her cool most of the time, being spooked by jerks. She had three older brothers so… you know. Used to it.
She wasn't, however, prepared for any voice here and therefore wasn't really sorry when she instinctively threw the full pot with all her might at the spookers face.
Darcy turned to see if she needed to grab a kitchen knife (not that she'd know what to do with it, she was simply sans taser at the moment) but stopped short of any further culinary violence.
Tall and handsome. Chiseled Jaw of justice. Blond hair, blue eyes, all American.
Thoroughly soaked.
Aw poop. Darcy knew exactly who that was...
8:35 am. The Avengers private kitchen.
"Holy Odin!" She cried, nearly falling over herself to grab a towel. She worked up the nerve to look him in the eye and saw a rueful smile there. But there was also blood trickling down his temple, red and fresh.
"Dude." She whined softly, grabbing a few paper towels from the stand. Darcy carefully slipped around the island to face him but he had his hands up.
"It's ok, ma'am. I'm sorry I scared you." He smiled, his cheeks a little pink. Even though he was looking super cute, all bashful like, the only thing she saw was the blood.
"Can't reach." She grunted with frustration, clumsily fumbling with the towel in her hands. She kicked a few pieces of glass out of the way to try and stand on tippy toe, but he was like, the size of Everest.
"Really, I'm fine-," He tried again, but Darcy would have none of it. A drop of blood hit his impeccably crisp white shirt, making her tsk.
"Face. Here. Now." She demanded, using the same mommy voice she had to use with Jane when her crazy boss turned bestie wouldn't go to sleep or eat or shower...
He eyed her warily for a second but she raised one perfect brow, make herself clear. He seemed to see she wasn't going to budge and sat down on the nearest stool making him about face level. Even sitting, this man was intimidating. But not in a bad way.
She bit her lip in an attempt to focus on the task at hand.
"Now I'll never get my coffee." She pouted grumpily, trying to fill the uncomfortable silence. Her fingers moved his silky hair aside to find the source of the blood.
Seeing none, she realized his super-freaky-healing-thing must have kicked in. That didn't stop her from looking a little while longer though. To, you know... keep face.
Now, Darcy wasn't really supposed to know as much as she did about the Avengers, but there was Jane and Jane had Thor and Darcy had rum and when Jane and Thor drank rum, they became very talkative.
She had actually evil-cackled the first time she got the couple wasted. It was awesome. Expensive, because Thor put away like four pint bottles of high end rum before getting tipsy. But awesome nonetheless.
Captain freakin' America smiled at her when she finished her fruitless search, holding out a large hand for the dirty towels. She gave them to him, only slightly aware of tge buzz she felt when their fingers touched.
Darcy pouted as she she turned to the sink, sad she had to wash her hands. How often does a girl get to grope the Cap's face, for heavens sake!
"I've got a classic machine here. Tony keeps it under the counter." He laughed huskily, mistaking her pout, though she wasn't going to point it out. Not if it meant coffee with a cute dude.
Darcy was kinda surprised by the way he just name dropped Stark, but then again, they were probably superhero B.F.F's. She had to keep reminding herself where she was. Hero's were everywhere.
"I'm sure I can manage a pot without death or destruction." His mouth was lifted into a small smile, sending butterflies a flutter in her tummy.
"I'll never ever say no to coffee. And I think I was the one destroying stuff, but no one needs to know about that." She grinned saucily, hoping onto the island after sweeping up the glass. She watched him look at her with those big blue eyes, his gaze assessing one minute, shy the next. He probably didn't see much of a threat in a girl in bunny slippers.
"Agreed." He said finally, giving her a kind smile. "I was asleep in here when you came in and I'd not like anyone to know I was caught unaware... Never live it down." He mumbled, as his golden locks duck beneath the black marble counter top. After a second he lifted a classic coffee maker and to her surprise, this baby was reaaalllyyy old.
"Oh my gosh! Does that old geezer even work?" She chuckled loudly.
"Hey!"
Darcy couldn't help but cackle, realizing the insinuation. He looked a little embarrassed but there was a genuine smile that played on his lips and Darcy was feeling a little feisty.
9:03 am.
She sat on the super soft bed-like couch and stared out the magnificent windows, enjoying the way the sun glittered off the tall buildings, making their windows look like diamonds. The pile of papers lay forgotten as she sipped her coffee slowly, relishing the bitter taste.
Darcy had been astounded when not only did that ancient metal contraption work, but it also produced a wonderful cup of joe! Who'd have thought a coffee machine older than her grandma could still kick out a good brew.
She glanced over to the big blond hero, realizing then that he, too, was older than her Gran.
Weird. And neat.
His face was lowered but she could tell he was watching her with curiosity. Odin knows what he must think of her. Flannel p.j.'s with little pink whales, thrift store hand knitted sweater, and bunny slippers to complete the ensemble. Whats worse was she was pretty sure he knew she wasn't technically allowed in here.
"I'm Darcy Lewis, by the way. I don't think we were properly introduced. I'm besties with Dr. Jane Foster and Thor." She tried not to smile like a newbie geek. BUT COME, WHO GETS TO SAY THAT!?
Technically not her, with all those confidentiality papers... but whatever.
He lifted his head and regarded her quietly, his own cup sitting empty having been guzzled. He had no appreciation.
"I remember Tony and I picking you and Jane up at the airport a few weeks back. You were… less than sober." He chuckled deeply at the mock serious nod she gave him.
But then a large yawn caught him up, causing him stretch those broad shoulders. She noticed now the bags under his eyes and the way he rubbed his face wearily. He must be really sleepy to have passed out here. She had to admit, it was a nice place to doze.
"Ok, Captain, I'm going to let you rest that cute little head of yours. I've got work to do anyways." Darcy announced hurriedly, gracefully sliding off the couch. She set her cup in the sink after grabbing her papers, noting with curious satisfaction that he stood and walked her to the door.
Before he opened it for her, he paused.
"Please, call me Steve. I'm usually the only one who uses this room so feel free to stop by anytime."
Darcy smiled brightly, relieved that she wasn't going to be kicked out of her fav hiding place.
Not able to resist, she patted that handsome chest of his with one shaking hand, hoping she didn't look as giddy as she felt.
"As long as you keep making amazing coffee, you can be sure I will. And I can promise to not throw anymore kitchen ware at you. Maybe."
With a wink and a grin, Darcy retreated to her rooms five floors below and thought (fantasized)about the sleepy all American hunk.