A/N: Okay, so this is just a little something inspired by (okay, stolen from) an episode of West Wing. Basically, it was an awkward exchange between Danny and CJ that I love, and when I was rewatching the episode, it screamed for some awkward Darcy and Steve to step into their shoes.
What Will You Be Wearing?
Darcy Lewis was very tired.
When SHIELD had rolled back out of New Mexico after Thor's appearance, battle with his brother, and prolonged disappearance, they'd buried Dr. Jane Foster under a stack of NDAs the size of, well, New Mexico. Or so it had seemed to her trusty intern, Darcy Lewis who only needed the science credits from her internship to graduate with her degree in Political Science.
By the time the paperwork was all sorted out, Jane was a mess, and Darcy had been torn about leaving her. Then Jane had promised that the new direction of her research was different enough that SHIELD wouldn't be able to claim publishing it violated any of the NDAs. If Darcy agreed to stay on for another semester, Jane would be able to get her the required science credits. In exchange, Dr. Foster agreed to house Darcy with her in her mother's flat in London while they conducted the research. And to reimburse Darcy for Pop-Tarts. Especially in the event that Thor came back and started eating them.
For a while it had looked like Thor wasn't coming back, but also that Jane might just make the end of the semester without drawing SHIELD's attention and Darcy would get her credits. But before Darcy could count all her chickens, SHIELD shipped them off involuntarily to Tromso.
After the rest of the world found out aliens were real and both Thor and Loki were MIA once more, Jane and Darcy were returned to London. Of course, they had to start over again with their research going in a new direction, but it still sounded better than taking an actual science class to Darcy.
Then Jane had been taken into an alternate dimension or some such, touched something she ought not have, and brought Thor back with her. Cue evil elf attack which was swiftly followed by another round of SHIELD NDA negotiations.
Unfortunately (or fortunately depending on how you looked at it), SHIELD was revealed to be largely overrun by HYDRA before those negotiations finished and the paperwork became a moot point. Sort of. In that all the NDAs and supporting documents of previously signed agreements had been leaked over the internet and were therefore not really valid, and there was no SHIELD around to even negotiate with on the newer stuff.
The flip side, however, was that Jane and Darcy became targets almost instantly, being pulled out of the fray by one Hawkeye, AKA Clint Barton, as SHIELD literally and figuratively went down in a pile of flames. Once the dust had settled, Jane had been able to pull the right strings to get Darcy her credits, but there were a lot of people who knew by then that Darcy was a good way to get to Jane. The world wasn't really a safe place for either of them anymore.
So in stepped Tony Stark and the rest of the Avengers. They hired up Jane, moved her into Avengers Tower, and happily brought Darcy along as well. Initially they'd planned to just have Darcy continue what she had been doing, but she'd also have an apartment in the Tower and probably keep an eye on more scientists than just Jane in exchange for what they called a meager salary and Darcy called "more money than I'm getting as a Political Science major for at least a decade."
Before long, however, Pepper Potts, CEO of Stark Industries had found out about said degree as well as Darcy's ability to reign in Tony Stark without any real effort on her part. Once Pepper was made aware of the gem that was Darcy, well, she'd forced the others to allow Darcy's job description to change. Almost overnight, Darcy Lewis had become the Avengers' Press Secretary. She had a small staff, and she was tasked with advising the Avengers on how to deal with news and social media to best maintain a good public image.
And that was why Darcy Lewis was very tired. The Avengers didn't only get into trouble from nine to five, and they certainly didn't seem to get into trouble on convenient days. There had been a problem of a small, Avengers-caused explosion. And because Hawkeye liked to think that he was soooooooo funny, he'd called it a "freak gasoline fight accident." That had been at two in the morning on the night before a very important Avengers fundraiser and gala designed to not only raise money for the team and their inevitable financial contributions to rebuilding cities and small countries, but it was also intended to provide a platform for them to garner political support as they were no longer operating under any kind of oversight or council.
So starting at two in the morning, Darcy had been trying to pull Barton's foot out of his mouth (and if she had her way, shove it up his ass or beat him with it), and the day had just gone downhill from there. Even when her small staff arrived to work for the day, things hadn't slowed down for Darcy. Surprisingly it seemed that the majority of the questions she was asked weren't even about the previous night's incident or how the public was supposed to trust the Avengers when they did things like confiscate weapons of mass destruction. No, she kept having to answer questions about what kind of jewelry Pepper Potts would be wearing or what shoes Natasha would don.
At the end of her somewhat regular press-briefing, Darcy was just glad that she hadn't stabbed a reporter or let slip that Natasha's peep-toe Louboutin's were actually custom made to fit way more weapons and firepower than any normal person would have thought possible. In fact, she could probably take out the entire press room with the explosives she carried in those puppies, and wasn't that a tempting thought?
Still, Darcy held her tongue and did the job she was paid not nearly enough (and still an obscene sum) to do and made it out of the room with her still fresh and unbelievably fragile professional reputation intact. One of these days, those reporters would begin to realize that Darcy Lewis knew her shit.
Immediately after her meeting with the press, Darcy sat in on the daily Avengers meeting. The exact agenda for these meetings, at which she was always welcome, varied. Some days it was mostly finishing up mission debrief, and others they sat around bad mouthing each other lightheartedly, apparently feeling no great need to be overly productive. On the day of a large public function, however, the primary purpose was for Darcy to run through the questions she anticipated them receiving and coaching them until she was confident that they'd stay relatively on point. If that meant Natasha snapping and threatening Darcy with a weapon when she asked about what she wore under her uniform, well, better Darcy than a reporter. Plus, Steve, no wait, Captain America was sitting next to her, and he wouldn't let Natasha actually hurt Darcy.
Somehow Darcy made it through the meeting without too much incident and in only two and a half hours. She hadn't even embarrassed herself in front of said Patriotic Avenger, even though she'd been sitting next to his deliciously distracting presence the whole time. At one point, his leg had brushed hers, and she'd turned so red that she'd had to pretend she'd accidentally bitten her tongue to give a plausible reason for her flush or risk Bruce rushing her off to medical.
Okay, that actually had been a bit embarrassing, but it was better than saying that she'd flushed because Steve Rogers had touched her, he was hot, and she hadn't had sex in a really, really long time. Way better than saying that, in fact.
See, Steve did this thing where he was perpetually bad with women in a totally adorkable way, and Darcy had to constantly remind herself that he wasn't trying to flirt with her. He just didn't have much experience talking to females and they made him nervous because he was still a sick, skinny kid that nobody looked twice at on the inside. And that certainly didn't make her want to just pet him and love him and hug him and squeeze him all up!
It didn't!
Darcy Lewis was a professional now, and she could put a firm lid on her surely unrequited and definitely inappropriate feelings toward (*cough* the hottest man on the face of the earth *cough*) her coworker. They ended the meeting with her verifying that everyone was going to be dressed appropriately, and that THEY knew who they were wearing in case asked.
"Sorry about earlier," Natasha murmured to Darcy as she passed by where Darcy had rested her head on the table in front of her when Steve announced that the meeting was over.
Tiredly, Darcy waved a hand absently over her head and mumbled, "no, I get you. It's ridiculous that they only ask you and Pepper those questions. And that they never ask you anything meaty either. They're idiots, the lot of them."
Once the sound of footsteps leaving the room ended, Darcy allowed herself one small moment to sigh and dream of going home early and taking a nap then sitting on her couch to watch Netflix and eat ice cream all night instead of cramming herself into a dress and a corset so tight she wouldn't be able to eat a damn thing. When a warm hand gently landed on her shoulder, she squeaked and jumped in her seat.
Eyes wide, Darcy spun her chair to see that Steve hadn't been among those who had walked out of the room earlier and was, in fact, still sitting next to her. If anything, he'd managed to scoot himself closer without making a sound.
"Don't think I don't know that you egg them on, you giant troll you," Darcy teased, trying to let out some of her tension at finding herself alone in a room with Steve again. Something that she felt like had been happening more and more lately.
The twinkle in Steve's eyes told her that he was indeed guilty of that, but wasn't going to actually admit to it at the moment. When he opened his mouth, Darcy was expecting a witty retort of some kind which she would later claim was the whole reason it took her so long to respond. And no, she definitely didn't stammer. Or flush.
"And what will you be wearing?" Steve asked.
"I.. what? Me? Why do the Avengers want to know what I'm wearing?" Darcy pushed out.
"Not for the Avengers, just for me," Steve informed her as though it was completely normal.
"You want to know what I'm wearing?" Darcy asked incredulously.
"Yeah," Steve confirmed.
There were several beats of silence as Darcy opened and closed her mouth completely perplexed. "Well," she finally started slowly. "I'll be wearing an evening gown. In… uh… black lacey stuff. From a vintage store I found."
"Okay, well, I'll be looking forward to it," Steve said standing.
"Okay," Darcy replied, still confounded. "Well, I've got to take one more look at this speech that Tony's going to be giving to make sure it's ready to go."
She gestured at the tablet in front of her, and Steve offered her a big smile.
"Okay," he said before walking out the door.
Darcy waited, watching the door he'd disappeared through for a full minute to make sure he was actually gone before she thunked her head down on the table in front of her once more and mumbled, "what. even. was. that?"