fic: I don't want your money, I don't want your crown (see, I've come to burn your kingdom down)
category: thor/captain america/avengers
genre: humor/action/romance
chapter rating: r (violence)
overall rating: nc-17 (eventual explicit sex)
ship: darcy/steve
summary: When Steve is sent in to apprehend the extremely skilled assassin, Darcy Lewis, he finds more than he bargained for, and a very unexpected ally in the process.

[1]

It would be so much easier if the world was black and white. If good was good and bad was bad and there was never any question of what either meant. But Steve knew different; he knew things didn't always fit into those labeled boxes.

On paper, Darcy Lewis was an enemy. She was efficient, a contract killer without a conscience, taking the highest bid and pulling the trigger without so much as flinching. The picture in her folder fit the laundry list of crimes she had to her name; cold blue eyes and a ruthless, red-lipped smile stared back at him.

But paper couldn't do her justice, and when he was finally faced with her in person, he had a dilemma on his hands…

Infiltrating her apartment wasn't particularly difficult. In a high-rise penthouse overlooking Prague, Miss Lewis had no visitors to speak of and no guests staying with her. For safety reasons, Steve had his strike team empty out the floor below Lewis' just to be sure. He had men posted outside the penthouse door, in both emergency stairwells, and on the main floor, keeping lookout. He also had Bucky and Hawkeye stationed on the buildings adjacent, keeping an eye on any movement from inside.

Steve entered alone and was hit, suddenly, by how eerily quiet it was. He moved silently through the apartment in the hopes that he would find her off guard and remove her without incident. Her file read that she was proficient with weapons, guns especially, having been a trained sniper, but she was deadly with a knife, her hand-to-hand combat was nothing to scoff at, and just to be absolutely sure that any injury to an enemy would be fatal, she laced all of her weapons with a homemade poison, the potency of which killed within seconds. But it was her ability to expertly manipulate people that often tripped other agents up. Many had been sent in and all had left empty-handed, if they left at all.

Steve had his gun at the ready as he moved further into the apartment, checking each room he passed; the lights out, providing him with coverage while simultaneously limiting his ability to see a threat. He passed the bathroom, the open door to a sprawling office, the entrance to the kitchen on one side and the open doors to a bedroom that spoke of luxury on the other. Finally, he saw light, a flickering fire in the living room, and he followed it.

Music was playing faintly; a tune he remembered from his time, in fact. A fire crackled, burning away in the grate, and a silver cat stood on the arm of a flawless white couch, stretched forward, tail swishing, and a purr for attention vibrating from its throat.

Absently, Darcy reached back to scratch the cat's ears, her eyes set out the window, head cocked slightly, a tendril of her dark hair skimming across her shoulder.

"I count three, but I'd bet money there's only two snipers and one dummy post set up for distraction…" She turned her head to see him, an eyebrow raised. "These windows are reinforced; they can shoot all they want, but nothing'll getting through."

"We can always test that," Steve answered, taking a step forward, hand flexing on his gun. "This would be easier if you cooperated, Miss Lewis.

"For you, maybe."

"I can guarantee no harm will come to you while you're in my care."

She gave him a look over, passing a critical eye across him, from the broad length of his shoulders, down his arms and chest, carefully covered in his dark blue tactical suit, down his legs, braced apart, ready for attack. Humming, she scooped up her cat, holding it to her chest for a moment as she scrubbed her fingers between its ears and down its neck.

Her eyes never let him as she bent forward to place her cat on the floor. His own gaze followed her, critiquing in a way wholly different than hers had been. The picture they had of her was from the neck up; he wasn't expecting her body to be quite so… distracting. She was curvy, in the way pin-up girls were from his time, and her dress was doing everything to bring that to attention. His mouth went dry and his brow furrowed. Giving his head a faint shake, he focused on her eyes, but the curl of her lips told him she knew exactly how much she was affecting him.

"By order of SHIELD, I'll be escorting you back to American soil for sentencing regarding your crimes—"

"That's a fancy way of saying 'SHIELD does not approve of you shooting people we didn't want shot, yet. As opposed to those other people we shoot off the record for reasons the public are not allowed to know about. Because you're getting paid better than us, and happen to be better at your job, we need you to stop. And by stop, we mean either rot in a jail cell the rest of your life or mysteriously disappear…'" She raised an eyebrow then. "Mystery disappearance is really 'die in some suspicious way,' if you didn't catch that one."

"You weren't being too subtle, so I didn't have much trouble keeping up," he returned.

Her mouth twitched. "You're feistier than the last one they sent… Although, I'm a little offended they keep sending men. When do you think I'll warrant a visit from Black Widow?" She cocked her head curiously. "Who does a girl have to kill around here to get the royal treatment, huh?"

He frowned at her. "Miss Lewis—"

"Do we really need to be formal here? I mean, you've broken into my home for the sole purpose of arresting me for crimes some paper pusher said I committed."

"Are you disputing the charges laid against you?" he asked a little incredulously.

She offered him a saucy smirk. "If I am, do we get to pick this up next week after you and the Scooby Gang have looked into it?"

His lips pursed. "I'd still have to take you in."

"Well, see, that's unfortunate…" She put a hand to her hip, grinning when his fingers twitched abruptly toward the trigger on his gun. "Easy, Tiger. I'm unarmed…" She started walking toward him, slowly, letting her hips sway enticingly. "You wouldn't hurt an unarmed, possibly innocent woman, would you?"

"That would depend on whether or not I trusted her on either account."

"Are you calling me a liar?" She tsked at him, wagging a finger. "That's not a good foot to start off on with a woman, Captain Rogers… You might want to try a different approach. I'd suggest wining and dining me, but… I'm on a time limit here." Her nose wrinkled with faux-disappointment. "Maybe in another life, another time, when I was less me and you were less of a sheepdog."

A muscle in his jaw ticked. "So now I follow the crowd, huh?"

"If by 'crowd' you mean the corrupt institution that is SHIELD, then yes." She paused just short of him and raised her chin to meet his eyes, somehow managing to make him feel like she was actually looking down at him. The firelight flickered over her features and, not for the first time, he resented how beautiful she was. "Have you ever stopped to ask yourself 'why?'"

He frowned at her. "Why what?"

"Why you haven't heard anything from your strike team, stationed on the floor below, outside my door, across the street… Not one little peep." She stared searchingly into his eyes. "Why you had a pre-made mission plan given to you, where you were the only one sent in to engage a highly trained assassin… Why you were hand-picked for this job, where so many had failed… Why I let you get this far, and, most especially, why I dressed so spectacularly for the occasion." She gave him a little spin, stopping with her back to him as she grinned over her shoulder. "It's a nice little number, isn't it? I considered going with the traditional red, white, and blue, but I felt like that was a little more patriotic than I was willing to get."

Steve cast his gaze away from her and across the street; he searched for the familiar glint of Clint's or Bucky's guns, for a signal of some kind to let him know they were okay, but the only one that was left was the fake-out a few floors down from their positions.

"Don't worry. They haven't been hurt. Knocked out by now, definitely. It's a quick-acting toxin; I made it myself. It'll even put Barnes on his ass for a while."

He whipped his head back around to snarl at her, panic and worry building up inside him, but before he could get a word out, she raised a finger and pressed it to her lips. "Shhh… I'm in the middle of my very important villain speech…" She turned, walking toward a drink cart and poured herself a glass of bourbon. "Thirsty?" she asked, jiggling a second glass for him.

He simply stared at her, taking in every agile movement; the flex of her calves, the stretch of her fingers, the line of her back, every graceful, feline-like movement of her body.

"Have you figured it out yet, Captain?" she wondered, placing the empty glass back on the cart while she raised the other for a sip.

He watched her as she walked back toward him, licking his lips as she licked hers. "That this was a set-up? Like I said, you need to work on your subtlety."

She grinned, all bright, white teeth. "Maybe I enjoy a little dramatic flair…" She rolled a hand in the air. "And you're right, kind of. It was a set up. SHIELD, or, well, should I say HYDRA…? Either way, they decided that you were a liability. Hence, they called me in. A few higher ups pulled some strings, made sure you would be put on 'retrieve deadly assassin' duty, and then Rumlow and his little minions knocked out Barton and Barnes while I was expected to take you out."

"And yet here I am, listening to you lay out your dastardly plan…" He raised an eyebrow. "I'm guessing there's another piece to the puzzle."

"I always pegged you for a smart one…" She walked a little closer, until her front brushed his, and his teeth clenched as he dropped his chin to look at her. "It must really bother you… I'm so close and you could so easily just reach up…" Her own hand lifted, fingers teasing over her neck. "Snap me in half and, pfft, game over… Only you can't, because you're worried your friends might get hurt if you do…" She stared up at him searchingly. "That's the catch, isn't it? You get too close, people become risks. You don't get close enough, you have nobody you can trust and rely on… The scales, they need balance."

"And who do you trust?" he wondered, his eyes dropping to sinful red lips as they turned up in a smile.

"'Will you step in to my parlor?' said the spider to the fly…"

His brow furrowed.

"Do you know what's important when you take jobs? You always know who it's going to affect. With a career like mine, I have to look past the listed casualty to who else might be hurt." She rolled her eyes. "Emotionally more than physically… So when I got your file, it was obvious. Kill you, have Earth's mightiest heroes chase me down and avenge you. It wouldn't be an issue, usually. See, when you get into this business, you have to expect you'll make enemies and… Well, I've always been very good at outmaneuvering my enemies."

"I sense a 'but' coming…"

"But…" She grinned at him. "Sometimes the enemy of your enemy is your friend."

"I take it you're not a fan of HYDRA then."

She reached up, smoothing a hand down the front of his suit, dragging one sharp, black nail down him. "Getting smarter and smarter the longer we talk…"

"So, what? You took the job but you're not going to go through with it…?" He stared down at her, unconvinced. "You want me to just trust you?"

"Of course not. What do you take me for?" She took a step back and turned, knocking back the last of her drink before she dropped the glass on the cart. "Trust is earned. So here's what I'm offering… I'll get you out of here before Rumlow and his lackeys figure out what's happening. I'll help you get Barnes and Barton free. And then I'll get you and yours somewhere safe, where you can lay low, play Parcheesi, and bring your little band of misfit toys together to prepare for one big hurrah."

"And where will you be while we're… preparing?"

Darcy smirked at him. "Why, Captain, my Captain, was that concern I heard in your voice? Don't you worry your pretty little head about me… After you and the team are safe and sound, I can go back to doing what I do best; which, hopefully, will help even out the field a bit."

Steve frowned, his brow furrowed tightly. "You're going to start sniping HYDRA officials, is that what you're telling me?"

"I'm going to do my job," she said, her voice taking on a much more serious note. "Pay close attention, because I'll only say this once… When I was given the file on you, it came down from Alexander Pierce. Sound familiar? Because he should. He's the head of the World Security Council and a leader of SHIELD. When I told him killing national treasures wasn't up my alley, he tried to sell me the American dream in a bottle. 'You would be doing your country a great service, Miss Lewis. The world needs you. Your unique skill will help to create a whole new world.'" She rolled her eyes and shook her head. "My grandfather died in a concentration camp, starving and struggling and stripped of his dignity. In the eyes of HYDRA, only the strong survive; well, they don't know strong. I died on a pyre of good intentions when I was twenty-one, I raised myself up out of those ashes and I swore I would never let anybody tear me down again."

"So you thought you'd just kill anybody who got in your way?"

"You're missing the point." She scoffed at him. "You hold onto your ideals as tightly as you can, but you know better than anyone that the corrupt will only take down this world, piece by piece, until there is nothing good left in it. When people start talking about who is superior, that's when shit gets real. Now if you're not willing to stand and fight, fine. I'll get your sorry ass out of here and you can run off into the sunset with your friends. Because God knows we'll still need a figurehead to step out in front of this and grin for the cameras when SHIELD is dismantled. But I didn't risk my life just to meet a legend and shake his hand. I won't let them have this world. They've taken enough. Now what will it be, Captain? Give me liberty or give me death."

He stared at her a long moment, an argument building up inside him. Trust and mistrust warred in his gut. All he really knew about her was in a file given to him by someone who, quite possibly, had set him up to die. Meaning she might not be anything like he was expecting. The woman in the picture was not who stood in front of him. That woman was sharp angles and empty, soulless eyes. This woman before him was fire and passion and gutsy snark. Under different circumstances…

But these were the circumstances they were facing. Trust her, save him, save Bucky and Clint, and possibly even the world.

"I'll accept your help getting me out of here, and with Barton and Bucky."

Her lips ticked up. "I sense a 'but' coming…" she mocked.

"But you don't just disappear and run your own mission after… You have ties to Natasha, or you respect her enough, at least, not to have killed me. That's what you were implying, wasn't it?"

She stared at him a moment, lips pressed in a thin, stubborn line, and then she nodded.

"So come with us… If you know who these HYDRA leaders are, you can help us. And if you're still certain you want to take them out your way, then you'll at least have back-up."

Darcy's eyes narrowed then. "Are you trying to recruit me right now?"

He frowned. "I'm telling you that if what you're saying is true, if your intentions here are honest, then we need you, and I think we can help each other…"

Her gaze met his and held on for a long, tense moment. "I'll think about it," she said simply. "I'm not in the habit of agreeing to play with heroes for any extended period of time. Not, at least, when it doesn't involve a bed…" She grinned then. "Which, if we had more time, I might be offering."

"And if things were different, I might even take you up on that offer. But, as it is, I have two teammates that need help and we're standing in a heavily guarded building. So maybe we could focus on the situation at hand first."

Amused by him, and not the least bit concerned, Darcy said, "I'm a little offended that you think so little of me that I wouldn't have a back-up plan… I've been preparing for this all week."

"And here I thought you spent all that time picking out the right dress."

She laughed lowly and looked back at him, her eyes full of mischief. "Admit it, you like the dress."

Despite himself, he took her in again. Maybe it was the faint possibility that she might not be as much of an enemy as he'd first thought, or maybe it was just the high stakes mission, but he'd never been more attracted to a woman than in that moment.

"Maybe when I've proven that loyalty, you and I could renegotiate things," she said, raising an eyebrow as she looked him over. "After all, wouldn't want to waste a good adrenaline rush."

"Do you flirt with everyone you're hired to kill?" he wondered.

"Most of the people I'm hired to kill never get the chance to meet me…" She licked her lips, good and slow. "I suppose that makes you a rare breed."

"I suppose it does."

They stared at each other, the tension thick and overwhelming, but then she glanced away. "We should get moving. If it takes much longer, Rumlow will come looking. He's an asshole, but he knows what he's doing."

"I'm still curious how you plan to get us out of here."

Darcy crossed the room then and reached for the latch on the window, swinging it open and wide before she reached up and gripped a zipwire leading down from just above. "We'll take this beauty to the building across from us. From there, we'll climb up to the floors Barnes and Barton were left on, retrieve them, and go downstairs to the truck I have waiting in the parking garage. Meanwhile, Rumlow and his goons will finally get tired of waiting for me to finish the job. While they're busy figuring out what went wrong, I'll return you to your team. I have a jet waiting; the private and secret variety. From there, it's a free for all."

"That easy?" He raised an eyebrow.

Darcy grinned. "Of course not. That's the 'if everything somehow, magically goes exactly right' version. But don't worry, I have at least three back-up plans."

"Three?" he snorted. "Is that all?"

"I had a fourth but since we didn't have wildly inappropriate sex in front of the fire on a bear skin rug, it's already kind of shot to hell."

An unexpected laugh escaped from him as he shook his head.

Darcy crawled up onto the window sill then, kicking her heels off behind her, and took out a hand grip to attach to the wire. "Ready for an adventure, Captain?"

"Steve," he corrected. "I think, given the circumstances, we can work with first names."

"Steve, then." She tugged her dress down her legs a little and grinned at him. "Are you ready?"

He stared at her searchingly and considered the complicated situation he was in. An assassin hired to kill him was now offering to save his life and take down not just HYDRA but a corrupt SHIELD… She had risked her life and everything she knew to do the right thing, despite having turned her back on 'good intentions' years ago. But here she was, willing to risk her life for his, and he thought trust might just come easier than expected.

"I am," he told her, grabbing up the second hand-grip.

"Good. Because we've got a lot of hard work ahead of us… And then we've got a much needed break to look forward to. Which I'm hoping will be just as hard." With a wink, she leapt from the window, swinging from the hand grip without a glimpse of fear.

Steve sighed, shook his head, and followed after her, wondering all the while just what the hell he was getting himself into.