Darcy
"Steven Grant Rogers, you open this door right now," demanded Darcy Lewis, pounding on the door to her best friend's apartment. She crossed her arms over her chest, not caring that her breasts were pushed up in an almost obscene way in her low-cut blouse. Her red lips twisted into a scowl as she heard a stumble from the other side of the door.
"What the hell? It's too early for this shit," grumbled the man who opened the door. Darcy's eyes widened. This was most definitely not Steve. "What did the punk do now?" He was hot. Very hot. And cut. Fuck, was she at the wrong place? No, she couldn't be. She had knocked on this door so many times. The guy at the door stared at her, raising a dark eyebrow and reaching up to push a loose strand of long hair behind his ear. He looked rumpled and sexy, with a pair of black sweatpants riding low on his hips. Holy fuck, his abs were spectacular. And the v of his hips, the dark line of hair that disappeared into his sweats; both were doing wonderful things to Darcy's body.
"Uh," was all Darcy could get past her lips. The man was rubbing at his face with one hand, which was doing wonderful things to the muscles of his chest. She shook her head, ripping her eyes up from his abs to his well-sculpted pecs to – was his left arm made of metal?! Something niggled in the back of her mind, like she should know who he was, but she was too distracted to really think about it.
The guy smirked, and crossed his arms over his chest. "You lookin' for Steve, doll?" Darcy nearly swooned at his Brooklyn drawl. Steve hid his so well, but this guy didn't seem to care that he sounded panty-meltingly sexy. He probably sounded even better in the bedroom, in the dark, she mussed, trying to drag her eyes from his cut pecks to the dip of his collarbone and past his chiseled, stubbly jaw. Stubble was hot, especially on him.
"Um, yeah. Captain Asshole ditched me to deal with Johnny Storm at the coffee shop this morning," she said, regaining her composure and ripping her eyes from his plush lower lip. His eyes were a warm chocolate brown that glowed with mirth.
"Ah, okay then. Well, seein' as he went out with Stark and Barton last night and never came home, I don't think I can be much help." Darcy bit her lip. He obviously knew what his accent did to women, judging by the way the corner of his mouth turned up into a smirk. He leaned against the door frame, a few strands of his chin-length hair falling into his face. "So how'd you get on the bad side of the Human Torch?"
Darcy scoffed, "More like he got on my bad side. Too many conversations where he couldn't keep his eyes off the girls. I don't appreciate when guys tell me we're dating after a drunken one-night stand. Steve-o was supposed to help me set him straight, because the idiot thinks I'm playing hard to get." He let out a loud laugh at her statement.
"Tell ya what, doll. In exchange for your finding my best friend and letting me be there when you tear him a new one, I'll go face down the Human Torch with you," he said.
"Sounds good by me," she grinned. "Darcy Lewis, by the way." She stuck out her hand to shake. His large, warm hand folded around hers, and she let a shiver run through her body.
"James Barnes. But you've probably heard Steve call me Bucky."
Darcy's jaw dropped. "You're Bucky? Oh, well, duh, I should have guessed, what with the arm, but, oh my God, I am so sorry to wake you up and bother you. I've heard so much about you! It's really nice to finally meet you."
"All good things, I hope," he laughed. "Sorry I haven't been so social yet. I only just got back, and Steve has this birdbrained idea that I need to adjust to people."
"Well, we're having a movie night tonight. Consider yourself ordered to be there by Coulson's PA," she said. "I'm off to find your buddy, now. Later, James!" She waved and headed for the elevator, a bit of extra sway in her hips. She could feel his eyes burning into her body, and she smirked to herself, happy she had worn her heeled boots with her best skinny jeans. She reached the elevator and turned to see Bucky's eyes glued shamelessly to her curves. She winked, and he grinned unapologetically as she entered the elevator. The doors slid closed and cut off her wonderful view. "Hey, Jarv?"
"Yes, Miss Lewis?" replied the AI, a phantom voice from the ceiling.
"What did I say about calling me Miss Lewis? And where are Steve, Tony, and Clint?"
"Mr. Stark and the Captain are in the lab, and I believe that Agent Barton is on the roof," said Jarvis, his crisp British accent calm.
"Thanks, Jarv. Can you take me there, first?" The elevator shot up to roof level. Darcy stepped out onto the gusty roof, shivering as the wind bit through her thin blouse. "Clint?" she called out, not seeing him right away.
"Ugh," came Clint's disgruntled groan from somewhere to her left. Darcy walked over to stand above the archer. "Move a bit to the left? The sun's getting real bright."
"Get up, Hawkass," she quipped, leaning down to give him a hand. "Let's go get you some coffee." Clint pulled himself up and leaned on her a bit, hand shielding his eyes from the sun. "What bright idea brought drunk you to the roof?"
Clint shook his head slowly as they stepped into the elevator. "Jarvis, can you dim the lights, please?" he grunted, squeezing his eyes closed. The lights went down, and Clint opened his eyes. "I think I was trying to catch a hawk," he admitted to Darcy, leaning against the elevator wall.
She sighed at her adoptive brother's antics, shaking her head. "You guys used your blackout drunk pass for the week, just so you know." The elevator dinged and the doors opened into Tony's lab. "You might want to cover your ears, Barton," she warned, strutting into the lab, her face a blank mask she had picked up from Natasha. Who was passed out on the couch. Just fucking wonderful; she had been counting on the spy's ability to scare the living shit out of everyone. "C'mon, Jarvis. Just like last week." She plugged her ears as the AI began to blare "Call Me Maybe". Nat jumped up from the couch, gun in one hand, other held to her ear, glaring balefully at the smug PA in front of her.
"Shut it off, Lewis!" yelled Tony from his place on the floor. Steve poked his head up from behind a lab table, his hair rumpled and eyes bloodshot.
"Thanks, Jarvis!" she yelled, and the music stopped. "How'd you guys sleep?" Her Midwestern drawl poked through, reflecting her annoyance with Steve.
"Fuck you, Lewis," groaned Stark as she walked over to the coffee maker, Clint on her heels. She pressed the start button on the modified coffee maker, and it began to make enough coffee to feed an army of hungover superheroes. She then marched over to Steve, who was squinting at her.
"Quit fucking with me, Rogers. I know you can't get drunk, so drop the act," she snarled, tapping the toe of her boot on the floor.
"Tony made me vodka," he replied, sitting up and groaning. "I haven't had a headache this bad since I had influenza. Fuck." Clint walked over with a mug of coffee for Steve, and the super soldier took it gratefully. Darcy crossed her arms over her chest and glared at Steve.
"What's got your panties in a twist, Lewis?" grumbled Tony, who promptly got smacked upside the head by Natasha as she made her way to the coffee maker.
"Well whoop-de-do, Cap. While you were hungover, I had to deal with one very clingy member of the Fantastic Four who doesn't get the message that it was a one night stand and is convinced I want to date him," she snapped, ignoring Tony completely. Steve's head shot up, an action which must have hurt like hell, but his eyes were immediately full of guilt.
"Darce, I'm so sorry," he began to apologize before Darcy cut him off.
"I promised your roomie that I'd wait until he was present to rip you a new one." She kissed him on the top of his head. "Feel better." She began to head back out to the kitchen. "Movies tonight, lunch in three hours. I'm going to make a pot of soup."
Halfway to the kitchen, Darcy stopped off in her room to change out of her heeled boots and slip into a pair of socks covered with ducks. She also swapped out her low-cut blouse for an old flannel shirt before gathering her dark, curly hair into a messy bun on the back of her head. The last step to getting comfortable was to swap out her seldom-worn contacts for her black-framed glasses, which ended up taking a lot longer than she thought it would. She eventually found her glasses in the kitchenette of her apartment.
Darcy wandered into the kitchen and pulled a stockpot almost as big as her out of the cupboards below the counter. Short as she was, she pulled out the kitchen stepstool too, setting that up beside the pot. She filled the pot with water, and set to work cutting up two chickens and enough vegetables to feed an army.
"Hey, Darcy," chimed Bruce Banner, walking into the kitchen. She looked up at the fluffy-haired scientist and offered him a huge smile.
"Hiya Doc! You busy?" She continued to chop chicken without looking down. She was confident in her chopping abilities.
"Not really, do you need help?" he asked, a tired grin on his face. Darcy set her knife down and washed her hands. Strolling over to the scientist, she proceeded to stare at his face. "Darce? Everything good?"
She poked at the dark circles under his eyes before asking, "When did you last sleep? And I don't mean a cat nap. When did you last hit a full REM cycle?"
"Um, maybe… Monday?" he replied, tapping at his chin.
"Bruce, c'mon, you gotta sleep," she scolded. He opened his mouth to argue, but she cut him off before he could even get a word out. "Science can wait. Sit. I'll make you a cup of chamomile tea, and then I'll make sure nobody disturbs you until movies tonight, okay?" He just nodded, apparently knowing better than to argue with the force of nature that was Darcy Lewis. She set to work making a mug of the relaxing tea as Bruce perched on a stool at the island.
"Thank you, Darcy. How did things with Sue's younger brother go?" he asked as she left the teakettle to boil and filled her submarine-shaped tea infuser with her favorite sleepytime tea for him, and her t-rex tea infuser with mint tea for herself.
"They didn't. Tony managed to finally find an alcohol with a proof high enough to get Steve drunk, so, instead of coming with me to be my fake-boyfriend and get Johnny off my case, he spent the morning sleeping in the lab," she replied, shaking her head and pushing her glasses up slightly to rub the bridge of her nose. "I want Johnny off my ass and fast. He keeps calling." To punctuate her point, her phone rang. One look at the caller ID had it flung over to Bruce. He looked at Darcy pointedly. She shrugged helplessly.
With a huge sigh, Bruce answered the phone, "Hello? Yes, hi Johnny. Darcy's currently very busy at the moment. Yeah, okay. Say hi to your sister for me. Bye." He tossed the phone back to Darcy who smiled at him as she poured hot water into their mugs.
"Thank you, Big Green," she said, handing him the mug with the little submarine floating in it. She dropped a kiss on his cheek as he grinned, despite his reluctance to lie for her.
"Sure, but this is the last time. Fix it." He took a sip of his tea, and Darcy got back to work. She dumped the chicken into the giant pot, turned up the heat, and set to work chopping carrots, celery, onions, potatoes, and all manner of other herbs and vegetables. Bruce sat there, sipping at his tea and sharing idle chatter. The rest of the Avengers steadily ended up either in the kitchen area, or in front of the mammoth television in the adjoining room. Steve came in and apologized just as she dumped in the last of the vegetables.
"Darce, I'm so sorry," he said, coming up to the island.
"Can't yell at you until James is here. I promised," she commented. She wasn't really mad at Steve, not anymore. But she wanted to keep him on his toes, a tactic she had learned from Natasha. The redheaded spy had a reputation for having a temper, though she was the most mild-mannered woman Darcy had ever met. Natasha did enjoy perpetuating the rumors, though. It always made for a good laugh on girls' night with Pepper, Jane, and sometimes Maria.
Steve gulped as Darcy smiled innocently at her best friend. She shoved gently at him to gain access to the cabinets that contained flour, sugar, and chocolate chips. "Darce, seriously. I am so sorry," he tried again. She just grinned at him again and spread the ingredients to make her grandma's double fudge cookies.
"Can you grab me some butter? Two pounds, please," she said, pulling a few boxes of bakers chocolate out of another cupboard. She began to chop it into bits as Steve set the butter down at her elbow and tried again.
"Darcy, please. I'm really so sorry, and I promise we'll go tomorrow, and-"
"You might want to give the girl some space, Steve," drawled a panty-destroying Brooklyn accent from by the door. Darcy jumped and nicked her finger on the blade of her knife, glaring over at Bucky, who immediately looked contrite.
A/N Hey guys! So sorry this took awhile... I was marathoning Arrow again... (Some fics coming under that show soon, I promise!) I hope you enjoy this fic; it's hopefully going to go faster than my others, but I'm not sure because I'm not quite sure where this is going. But, enjoy! Please R&R!
All my love- BriarRose