This whole super-hero business was bullshit, Bucky Barnes thought to himself for the thirtieth time that day, as he and his growling stomach were corralled into signing for Thai food that he wasn't even going to get to eat. His mornings consisted of training, and his afternoons were a never-ending parade of medical and psych evaluations, and endless upon frigging endless paperwork. Life in Stark Tower was one long exercise in how many times you could sign your own name before it lost all meaning. In the case of the former Winter Soldier, his name had only recently regained any meaning after long months of intensive therapy, so it was particularly cruel to have to squander it on Stark bureaucracy. Bucky had finally gotten out to go for a walk and actually breathe some fresh (relatively speaking, this was midtown Manhattan) air, but when he stepped back through the big gleaming doors sometime after midnight, the security guard at the desk downstairs had practically begged him to sign and take the two steaming hot paper-inside-plastic bags up to the Avengers' levels.
Bucky wouldn't have gotten involved, but he was impressed that the guy had the balls to ask him to do it. Most people in the Tower knew who he was and avoided interacting with him like the plague. The twenty-something guard had been shaking when he stopped him with a quiet word, so the guy had to know who he was despite his ball cap and jeans, but the thick training manual sitting open on the security desk that he was going over with StarkPad in hand indicated that it was going to be more painful not to ask. Unfortunately, none of the ground floor employees had access to Stark Tower's all-knowing AI, so they had to work any kinks out according to the book. The security guy and the restaurant delivery boy had looked at Bucky with such hope that he'd sighed and scribbled a barely legible "JB" which was all they were fucking getting out of him at this time of night.
Stark security measures meant that takeout delivery was a no-no on the upper floors. Bucky wondered who had been careless enough to call it in without showing up downstairs to pick it up. He looked at the receipt. It had a floor number that was one level up from the huge empty residence he shared with Steve these days, but no room number. He'd had a tour, and knew that level was full of Stark's labs, but there were several and Bucky had no clue which one to go for. Great, so he was gonna have to wander around upstairs like some chump with two huge bags full of delicious smelling Thai while his stomach rumbled and he looked increasingly murderous.
On the elevator up, Bucky considered just getting off at his floor and eating all of it. With his high metabolism, he could probably get through it all by lunchtime. If he got up to the labs and saw Tony's smarmy smirk or worse, Barton's not-so-funny wise guy routine warming up, Bucky promised himself he'd go straight back downstairs and eat every last bite. Slouching back against the wall of the elevator, Bucky straightened at the "ding", but dodged to the side as a figure came barreling around the corner and grabbed the edge of the open door.
"Shit shit shit," she chanted, slightly out of breath. When she caught sight of him, or rather the bags of food he held in each hand, she sighed with relief. Her eyes turned heavenward. "Thank you sweet baby Jesus," she muttered. "I don't think I can make it through any more Science! tonight without some serious sustenance." She proceeded to give him a huge smile. "Wow, am I lucky they let you up! I forgot I was supposed to go get the food downstairs here. I'm new—well, not that I actually work here. I'm just the intern of a consultant really. I thought I was going to get in major trouble! Well, come on, come on," she urged him out of the elevator and turned back in the direction she'd come from.
Bucky didn't recognize the person who was currently hustling him down the wide white corridor, though that wasn't surprising if she was only here temporarily. He walked beside her to get a better look. A brunette with hair up in a messy bun in jeans and a plaid shirt, just like him, but Bucky found hers fit in a very different and flatteringly feminine way all the same. She'd said she was an intern, but as far as Bucky knew this was Tony Stark's personal laboratory level and he'd had to invent robots to assist him because he was too fucking annoying to have a breathing human intern. Dr. Banner sometimes worked up here, but Bucky had heard that guy was a loner of the highest degree. Who could she be working for? The girl had a lanyard around her neck with a StarkTower ID, but it was flipped so he couldn't read the name on it. She stopped abruptly.
"Wait. How long did it take you to get up here?" she asked. "Including the part at the desk?"
Bucky thought about it. "Six minutes?" he guessed. He could have been more accurate, but if she was taking him for a normal guy he wasn't gonna pop her bubble.
"Yahtzee!" the girl cried. "That's like, a fifteen minute break!"
She pulled him off to the side, swiping her ID and tumbling them both into what was apparently a storage closet. There was a counter with a sink along one wall while the others were filled with crates of pipettes, stacks of paper towels, little jars that held who the hell knew what kind of chemical shit. Science stuff. It didn't really make him twitchy anymore, but Bucky still didn't like the sterile lab environment. Closet felt okay. Whoever this girl was, he couldn't quite bring himself to feel suspicious of someone so obviously exhausted and slacking off of work.
The girl waved at the counter. "Just set 'em down wherever." She was futzing around in her pocket, trying to extract the wallet she had jammed in there. "What do I owe you?" she asked.
"Uh, they took care of the check downstairs," he said, though he suspected the poor kid at the security desk had paid out of his own pocket just to make the problem go away. Bucky sighed inwardly at the thought that he'd probably have to go back down there at some point and pay the guy back. It was annoying to think that he was gonna have to pony up for food that he didn't get to eat, but no way was he taking this girl's money. She was cute and stylish in a way but her clothes had a shabby well-worn edge that contrasted with those of the highly-paid Stark employees he ran into everywhere. Bucky had more than enough on his bank balance to pay for food, he just didn't want to have to wait for it. On cue, his stomach growled loudly.
"Oh no! You're starving and carrying around the most delicious smelling Thai I've had the pleasure of sniffing for years! That's like a capital tragedy. In New Mexico there were a couple of places that were okay, and I know there had to have been good stuff in London, but I never encountered any. Norway? Forget about it."
She hopped up on one end of the counter, next to the bags, and indicated for him to do the same on the other side. He carefully did so, relieved that this would keep his left arm away from her. It'd be better if she didn't notice. Though it would be a miracle if she noticed anything over the constant stream of words she was keeping up.
"Every time I was allowed to call my mom she'd make a big deal out of how they had just eaten at my favorite Thai restaurant, as if I'd just throw in the towel and move home immediately for some green curry chicken. Well, it might have been closer than I'd like to admit a few times, but—here!"
The girl had been poking through the bags, coming up with a container of fresh spring rolls. She unsnapped the top and held it out to him with a flourish.
"I guess you probably eat this stuff all the time but you might as well have some if you're that hungry. Don't worry, I over-ordered on a massive scale in case the boss lady's BF shows up in the labs. He's a really serious eater. And since Tony Stark is footing the bill, well, why not I say!"
Bucky eyed the rolls. They looked delicious. He carefully stretched out his right hand toward the container, only to have it whipped away from him.
"Oops! Forgot to open the dipping sauce," the girl said. She held it out to him again, a friendly smile on her face.
Is this how HYDRA drugs me and drags me back down into hell? Bucky wondered. But the girl pushed the container in his direction and he gave in, going for the sauce and everything. In for a penny, in for a pound, he figured. He bit into the roll and immediately was hit with the desire to eat every last one.
"Mmmm! These are great!" the brown-haired girl said around her own spring roll. She chewed and swallowed and went on talking. He guessed they weren't poisoned then. Bucky let himself finish his bite.
"I've tried a few different places in the city when I was younger, but this is the one Stark recommended, and I'd figure the rich dude would know good food, right? And so far it is not letting me down!"
She chomped another bite and dug around for a styrofoam cup of thai tea to wash it down, and Bucky quickly made his way through the roll in his hand. He was trying not to let his gaze linger on her lips and teeth, or on the curve of her throat as she ate. Despite being a chatterbox and dressing kinda like a man, this one was a real looker.
"So do you eat Thai food like, all the time then?"
"Not so often as you might think," Bucky managed around a mouthful.
"Yeah, I guess you'd get sick of the same thing after a while, but it's hard to imagine, considering how totally delicious this is. Did you know that prisoners in a New Hampshire jail rioted in the 18th century because they were being fed lobster every day? People need variety! Though I think I could eat a lot of lobster before I'd come anywhere close to rioting."
Bucky snorted. Her bright blue eyes flicked to him and he half-smiled at her, not wanting her to think he was making fun of her.
"You too, huh? I'm Darcy, by the way," A blush had risen on her cheeks, but her smile didn't waver. She stuck out her hand, and Bucky shook it.
"Uh, James," he said. It was the truth, and still common enough even today that it wouldn't disabuse her of the notion that he was a delivery boy the way the name 'Bucky Barnes' might.
"Just 'James'? Not Jim, Jimmy, Jamie or anything like that?"
Bucky looked at her critically. She stared back through her black-framed glasses, then turned and opened a container of noodles. Did she know something about him after all?
"Probably at some point you had a cutesy family nickname," she said with a nod. "You definitely look like someone who has suffered under a cutesy name for most of your life. It's cool, I understand the feeling of not wanting to get stuck in the box set up for you by baby-talking parents. Here—have some pad thai. Not traditional Thai, you probably know it was invented for ignorant American customers who couldn't handle the real thing, but man, it is tasty anyway! This smells a~ma~zing!" she said, taking up some chopsticks and digging in.
She rifled around in the paper bag between them and came up with another pair of chopsticks. She poked him with them.
"Here ya go!" she said brightly.
Bucky accepted them carefully.
"Chopsticks are another thing catering to Americans—they put Thai food in the same generic category with Chinese and Japanese food, but Thai people don't use them."
"Just spoons and forks," Bucky answered thoughtlessly. He froze, realizing that he knew this from first-hand knowledge. He had been in Thailand, and had seen people eating. He closed his eyes briefly against the inevitable memory of bloodshed that thoughts of his travels with HYDRA would undoubtedly churn up.
"Yeah, I figured you would know that one," Darcy said brightly.
Bucky's eyes widened, then relaxed when he realized she must have meant he knew it because he supposedly worked for a Thai restaurant. Bucky took a grateful breath—whatever scene of slaughter he was about to experience receded. Darcy turned back to the bag of food and poked around some more.
"Hmm, there's more good stuff in here, but I think we've got some dumplings somewhere…"
"Is it okay that we're sitting here eating your boss' food?" Bucky asked, accepting the container of pad thai from Darcy and digging in in earnest.
Darcy shrugged. "I figure we've got a few minutes, and those nerds in the lab are so intensely Science!ing right now that I don't think I could get them to eat if I tried. So somebody ought to enjoy the food while it's hot, and you sure seem hungry."
Bucky shrugged defensively. He was seriously starving, and the food was too good to give up, but he knew it'd be best to leave the intern before she could become troubled by his presence here. Sooner or later she'd realize they didn't let just anyone up the elevators in Stark Tower, and it'd be better if he were gone by then.
Yet the food kept him on the countertop, the heels of his still-unfamiliar black sneakers with the white stripes tapping against the cabinets below. If he was being honest with himself, despite the amazing eats, the big lure here was the nostalgic feeling of being treated like a regular guy by a pretty girl. Darcy was good looking, but she wasn't focused on it like so many women he'd met since coming off ice. She seemed genuine in a way no one else he interacted with here did. Not that there were many women he talked to anyway. Natasha was too perfect and aloof...though at least her version of it was more familiar to him than the high heels and flawless makeup he saw in the mundane Tower employees. Hill was more down-to-earth, but as one of the only women with anything to do with the Avengers project, he wasn't about to talk to her about anything other than business.
This little slice of normal was thawing something inside, and Bucky hastened to keep the conversation up. "You said you're just visiting the city? Where do you live?"
This caught Darcy mid-bite, so she chewed hastily and waited until she could swallow. "Oh, well, we were in London, then in Hawaii at this crazy observatory, then Janey delivered a paper at a conference in Boston, then we got here a couple of days ago. So we're not really anywhere."
"You must be pretty dedicated to your work to travel around like that," Bucky said.
Darcy's shoulders slumped.
"To tell you the truth, I'm getting sorta tired of it. I'm really hoping that Stark hires Janey. Her Mom lives in London, and Jane's still sort of connected with Culver in California, but we're pretty burnt out of those places for various reasons. And Janey's BF is based here when he's on—on the eastern seaboard. And my Mom's in Connecticut and my Dad lives in Virginia, so I'd feel better back east as well. But it's up to Stark I guess, whether or not he wants to fund us."
"I'll keep my fingers crossed for you," Bucky said. He then cursed his word choice as her eyes zeroed in on his glinting metal fingers.
Darcy looked at him curiously, and Bucky dreaded that she wouldn't just come out with it. He needn't have worried. This girl was a talker and wasn't about to bottle anything up for his sake.
"Speaking of, that's a pretty awesome prosthetic you have over there. Technology keeps getting better and better, huh?"
He'd worn gloves when he went out earlier, but had thoughtlessly tucked them into his pocket when he'd had to sign for the food.
Bucky shrugged. Best they could guess, his arm had had the same basic design since the early 1950s. Stark kept adding new bits and bobs, but Bucky had yet to see any appreciable benefit over the old stuff.
"I guess."
"So were you in Afghanistan? My cousin was in Iraq, just one tour, but that was enough. Poor guy had a tough time. Not—not that he had as tough a time as you—" Darcy stammered, "I mean, obviously."
Bucky took pity on her. "War's tough for everybody in their own way." He shrugged again. "I can't say I wouldn't trade my experience for one where I got to walk away with my whole body," he said wryly.
Darcy was making a pained face, and he figured this was the place where he'd better make his exit. Difference always made people uncomfortable, and he was just gonna thank his stars she was feeling it for thinking he was a poor soldier boy who lost his arm in the line of duty, and not for realizing exactly who and what he was. Bucky slid down off the countertop.
"Better get, uh, back to work," he said, setting the chopsticks down.
"Wait!" She said, ducking into the bag once more. She emerged with another round container. "These are supposed to be some of the best dumplings in the city! You've got to try them. Pork, if that's okay?"
Bucky nodded, and Darcy grabbed one with her chopsticks and waved it right in his face. Self-consciously he took a bite.
"Damn," he muttered. That was a serious flavor sensation right there.
"Right? Stark was raving about these." Darcy had already chomped down on one of her own. "Mmm that's good. I love Thai food! But I also love sushi, and Indian. do you like Indian?"
"I haven't had much," Bucky admitted. "Mostly stick to more limited food choices."
At her crestfallen expression, he added, "But I've been trying to expand my horizons."
Darcy's face lit up. She finished chewing and the smile took over her face, a brilliant grin that had him smiling back at her. She pushed the container of dumplings at him and he took one with his own chopsticks this time. It really was fucking delicious. All sweet and sour and juicy and crispy. He chewed happily, leaning against the counter. He wasn't quite able to duck out the door after Darcy's rapid change in demeanor.
"Soooo," she said. "Would you want to try some Indian food? Or maybe just some coffee? Or maybe more limited food choices, I'm willing to try things too ya know."
She was still smiling, but her gaze had turned a little more intense. Bucky looked questioningly at her as he chewed.
"I mean, only if you want to. But you sound like you're from around here, and it would be cool to learn about the area from someone who knows, right? But you don't have to decide right now," she hastened on. "I mean, you can think about it if you want. But it would be great, if you wanted to—"
She reached back into the plastic sack and ripped off part of the paper bag inside. Looking around for a second, she reached up and pulled out the pen that secured her bun to the top of her head. She scribbled something on it and thrust it at him with flaming cheeks.
Bucky gingerly took the corner of brown paper from her. Oh. It was her number. Oh, shit, he should probably say something. Let her down easy. A guy like him couldn't exactly date a civilian. It wouldn't be fair to her. She'd been so nice to him. It'd be irresponsible to pay her back by painting a target on her back. Darcy's eyes were downcast, but she peeked up at him through her lashes, and he couldn't help but give her a lopsided smile. Maybe it'd be okay, if they met somewhere outside of the Tower...but what if she saw him here again? She might be working here from now on for Christ's sake.
No, there was no way this could ever work out. Bucky opened his mouth to tell her thanks but no thanks. But this one looked like she could be persistent. It might be a little cruel, but Bucky decided to play it safe and act offended. He put his right hand on the rigid outline of his left arm and hunched his shoulders.
"Look, I don't need your sympathy date. I don't need your pity—"
Darcy's eyes widened in shock.
"Pity? For the ridiculously hot guy with access to superior Thai food? Psha. Any pity here should be directed toward the poor exhausted intern who hasn't been on a date in six months."
Bucky raised his eyebrow at her quickly spewed words. She was obviously earnest in her offer, and he appreciated the way she'd stuck her neck out. Despite the embarrassment, Darcy insisted on making her interest plain, finishing with a slightly self-deprecating smile. If only he could see her again. Her courage impressed him.
Suddenly the door flew open, and Tony Stark leapt into the room with an obnoxious "Aha!"
Bucky had drawn the gun at the small of his back before he'd identified who it was, and was too occupied with hastily covering it up with his shirt to stop Tony from continuing.
"Foster's Intern! What in the seven hells are you doing in my supply closet with Barnes?"
Darcy mutely held out the original container of spring rolls to the intruder.
"Her name is Darcy," Bucky growled, rolling his eyes. How like Stark, to dehumanize all the people who actually made his little empire run.
"Yeah, and your name is all up in the history books." He returned his attention to the brunette, or maybe more accurately to her chest. Bucky coughed pointedly. Darcy crossed her arms uncomfortably.
"So, Darcy Lewis, college not-quite-dropout, Aries, and taser of Norse gods," Tony continued after a beat, "Are you actually so ballsy you don't have a problem locking yourself in a closet with the Winter Soldier or was Sergeant Barnes playing games with you?"
Bucky wanted to punch Tony square in his smug nose, but then he lowered his eyes and thought better of it. Clearly Darcy hadn't known who he was and, by any reasonable metric, guys like him should come with a warning label. He shifted, hoping to exit gracefully and spare Darcy the embarrassment of having to renege on her offer of coffee or Indian food, or whatever the hell it was she had actually offered. But he couldn't let her think he'd been trying to take advantage of her.
"I didn't—" he spluttered. "I wasn't—"
Darcy's blue eyes widened in surprise. "Oh, that explains the arm! And why you could get the food up here. I've gotta tell you, I was a little worried this was going to turn into a bad-guy-infiltration situation at first when I saw you in the elevator with it. I wasn't sure a HYDRA agent would hang out and eat so much pad thai though. Hey, so what's your security clearance? At least a six, right? I bet, probably? So we can even talk about what I've been doing for the past few years! Sweet! Not that it's that thrilling, just you know, aliens and stuff, but it's sorta awkward for someone to sit across the table from you like, 'So, what have you been doing with yourself for the past four years?' and have to come up with a smooth way of saying 'No comment'. Not a superfun first-date prospect. It always makes me way too nervous."
Stark's eyes narrowed at Darcy. "Wait, so you're actually pleased that you propositioned a world-famous assassin?"
Darcy let out an awkward laugh and stepped forward to punch Tony in the shoulder. "I didn't—" She risked a glance at Bucky out of the corner of her eye and, misinterpreting his stony face, punched Tony again, much harder. "I didn't proposition him you asshole!" she whisper-hissed. "Normal non-playboy non-billionaire non-philanthropists usually ask people out so they can see if they like each other. Not just say, 'Hey, there's my giant phallic symbol of a building in the sky; let's bang'!"
"Oh, so is that what I was doing wrong all those years? Because my way seemed to work pretty well," Tony replied defensively. "So sorry to interrupt your plebian courtship ritual, Lewis. Now give me my Tom Yum Goong so I don't have to witness any more of it!"
Darcy turned to the bags of cooling food. The blush looked good on her, and Bucky's fractured mind was finally coming up with some ideas on how to make her do it again, if he had the chance. But this was a mess. Much as he wanted to straighten things out with Darcy, Tony's harsh outing had gotten to him. He needed some space.
So it was somewhat disappointing but mostly a relief when Darcy put away the food they'd been sharing and brought the bags to the door, saying, "Oh, shut up Stark, I'll bring it. If I give it to you, you're just going to spill it all over the hall and then abuse your poor cute little robots when they try to clean up after you."
"Poor...cute? Are we talking about the same malfunctioning piles of parts that your lovely boss was just threatening to launch into space for jeopardizing her duct-tape job on that hunk of junk she calls a calibration reimager?"
"They're just doing their best," Darcy grumbled.
Bucky started to hand back the container of pad thai he'd been hoarding on his side of the counter, but Darcy shook her head. "Keep it," she said. "Thor may pout, but I ask you, does any grown man, god or no, really need to eat four servings of anything in a sitting? Not classy," she pronounced with another shake of the head.
"Move it, intern," Tony commanded, though Bucky couldn't help but notice that he held the door for her on the way out before striding ahead of her down the hall.
Darcy scurried after him, but after he turned the corner she stopped in the hallway and hastily set down her bags. She turned to Bucky with one hand stretched between her ear and her lips and mouthed some words. Was it "Call me"? Then she turned back down the hall, gathered up her load, and hurried to catch up to Stark.
"J?" Bucky asked, head tipped up toward the ether in which the Stark Tower AI seemed to exist. "Does the hand by your head still mean 'telephone' or something else?" Like 'never contact me under any circumstances you monster,' his brain unhelpfully supplied.
"Yes, Sergeant Barnes," responded the ever-present entity. "The gesture has been in use for many decades at this point, though I do feel it pertinent to mention that its meaning has shifted from the meaning 'I will call you' to include a request for a future call from the recipient of the gesture."
"Huh. Say, do you know if Tony is going to hire those astrophysicists?"
"I can tell you that Ms. Potts submitted Dr. Jane Foster's name and information to the Human Resources Department this morning with an expense request for a competitive salary submitted to payroll directly afterward."
"But anything on her intern? Darcy?"
"Miss Lewis? I'm afraid her name was not submitted along with Dr Foster's."
"Oh," Bucky said, disappointment racing through his stomach. Poor kid. After she'd been so loyal to her boss, too. How cruel to just cast her off. That's what you got from a Stark though. He'd been on the receiving end of Howard Stark's indifference more than once when put up against the more impressive talents of his friend. "No room for sidekicks," that narcissist had had the nerve to say to him.
"If you would permit me to make a further inquiry on the subject, sir?" the AI politely prodded.
"Uh, sure, go ahead." Bucky waited around for a second, snapping the lid back on his container of noodles. He could leave the area, but the hallway was deserted at the moment and Bucky didn't exactly want anybody else hearing what he'd been asking about. He scuffed the toes of his sneakers against the carpet.
"Sergeant Barnes?"
"Yes J?"
"I'm pleased to be able to inform you that there is an entry on the payroll for Ms. Lewis. Ms. Potts placed her on the short list—and by short I can tell you that it contains only her name—of candidates for Mr. Stark's Personal Assistant. I understand that she is as yet unaware of the offer, and I had to ask Ms. Potts' permission to give you the information. I should mention, sir, that she was...interested...in your inquiry."
Bucky winced a little at this last, but couldn't dispel the pleased feeling that had bloomed in his chest when he'd realized that Darcy was going to be sticking around, at least until she got sick of Stark. Not that that would be long. Who knows though, maybe it'd be long enough to give her another reason to stick around. Not that he was a good reason. Not now. But maybe, with enough time, he might be able to offer her that date. He headed back to his place, food in one hand and Darcy's number in the other. This Thai place was pretty good. He'd have to get the name of it from that kid downstairs the next time he saw him at the desk. Maybe he'd know of a good Indian place as well.