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Meeting

It's all Loki's fault that Darcy and Steve meet in the first place. If Loki hadn't let frost giants in Asgard's backdoor, prompting Thor to cause an intergalactic war, causing Thor's daddy to give Thor a galactically proportioned timeout on Earth, Darcy would have gotten her 6 credits blissfully unaware of hot aliens or literally hot alien robots that shot fire from their eye visors. She would have graduated, been unable to find a job in her field, and blissfully unaware of the true horrors loose in the universe, would probably have taken a job waitressing while she earned enough money to go back to get her law degree, or masters in art history, or something.

But she does know about alien menaces, and is therefore a security risk. That's why on graduation she was whisked off to New York for a job that sounded glamorous on paper but is really all for show, and keeping her quiet. She has a sort of executive assistant job, minus the executive, or even really the assistant part since everything that comes her boss Phil Coulson's way is classified beyond her pay grade. In short she has nothing to do, and her job is boring, with a capital B for Bullshit.

So, it is all Loki's fault when she is standing in the bathroom at SHIELD H.Q. drying her hands taking an extra long time. She is afraid as soon she gets back to her desk drool will dribble from her mouth, and she'll pass out from sheer lack of mental activity - she can't even surf - they track what's on your computer! She'll wake up with her face planted in a puddle of said drool. And. Well. Far better for everyone if she just takes an extra piece of paper from the dispenser, checks her glasses for smudges one last time, and busies herself with picking all the lint off her super thick gray acrylic sweater piece by piece. (SHIELD headquarters are really cold, except for her boss' Phil's office; he keeps his office extra warm, but he never sweats. Darcy suspects he's actually a snake).

It's all Loki's fault that she's dropping lint into the trash can, watching it fall like gray snowflakes when Steve Rogers, a.k.a., Captain America, bursts into the bathroom. Darcy knows who he is, because her boss, said Agent Phil Coulson, is kind of in-love with the man. Seriously, Phil's got some Captain America collectors cards encased in glass on his desk. Darcy's also not particularly surprised to see Captain Steve Rogers up and alive - she may have snuck a peek into some of that super classified material that went past her desk. But only because she was bored. She is a little surprised to see him in her bathroom though. She pushes her glasses up her nose and glances to make sure there aren't any urinals in the stalls and that she hasn't wandered into the men's bathroom by mistake. It's been known to happen.

"Ah..." says Steve. His chest is heaving and Darcy's brain springs into gear - finally - really it's been a long time since it's been put to good use.

"Hi," says Darcy. Okay, maybe it doesn't spring into the right gear.

Steve takes a deep breath, "I'm so sorry, M'am, but they're following me."

All sorts of interesting, exciting possibilities fill Darcy's brain. "Doombots? Aliens? Evil mutants intent on ruling the world?" With a grin she reaches for the taser in her super big sweater pockets - she's not supposed to have it, but she took it apart and snuck it into HQ piece by piece past security over the three months she's been working here.

Steve blinks. And then he whispers. "I wish. They're SHIELD agents...my um...bodyguards." His mouth twists into a sad sort of smirk. "Well...more like my babysitters. But I don't think they'll look for me in here."

From the hallway Darcy hears loud footsteps. And then her brain really springs into gear. Grabbing Steve's arm she whispers, "Better safe than sorry, Captain Rogers." Pushing him into a stall she whispers, "Quick! Stand on the toilet!" He follows orders remarkably well, and doesn't look too shocked when she follows him into the small space and closes and locks the door behind her. "Um, what are you-"

Putting her hands to her lips for silence, Darcy turns and faces forward. Her toes are facing the right direction a moment later when she hears the bathroom door swing open, followed by the pound of very masculine footsteps.

"Oh. My. Gawd!" Darcy shrieks, letting her voice soar an octave higher than normal. "Oh. My. Gawd. There are men in the bathroom!"

A bland voice says, "We'll just be a moment ma'am. We need to check the stalls -"

Keeping the same falsetto, Darcy shouts, "So help me, I've got a pen in my hand and if you check my stall I will jab it in the eye!"

"Um, ma'am, there's no reason to be concerned," says the bland voice.

Darcy ducks her head down underneath the divider and sees an agent with short dark hair, head near the ground, peeking into the stall next to hers. Pointing an accusatory finger at him she shouts, "Perv! Just wait until my boss Phil Coulson finds out about this!"

The face on the peeking head has the decency to blush before it disappears and another voice says, "I swear I saw him come in here..."

"Get out! Get out! I'm calling Phil," screeches Darcy. Pulling her phone out of the other gigantic pocket of her sweater she hits speaker so the agents can all hear when she starts to dial an imaginary number.

"We're leaving!" someone says. "We're sorry ma'am."

"You better be!" says Darcy, even as she hears the last of the footsteps retreat and the door shut.

Taking a breath, she turns around. Steve Rogers, a.k.a., Captain America, blonde, blue eyed, muscular symbol of all that is good, strong and true, is squatting on the toilet seat, hand over his mouth, face completely red. Darcy grins at him. He lifts an eyebrow towards the door. Holding up a finger, Darcy turns and checks outside the stall. Smiling at him proudly, she whispers, "They're gone."

Steve's eyes crinkle up, and he starts laughing so hard, he nearly falls off the toilet. Darcy starts laughing too. And then she and Steve both seem to suddenly realize how close they are to each other, and how small and the space is, because they both stop laughing at once, and Steve is suddenly staring at her.

Straightening, Darcy says, "I'll um...just step out."

"Um, yeah, right," says Steve, as Darcy turns and slips out the door.

As he steps out of the stall behind her, Darcy's eyes meet his in the mirror. He blushes, and they both start giggling again. Running a hand through his hair, Steve says, "Thank you, I am really grateful for that."

Shrugging, Darcy says, "It was no problem. It was actually the most fun I've had since I came here."

Steve looks down, and says, "Yeah, me too." He's smiling but he looks a little sad.

Darcy purses her lips. "Those guys follow you everywhere?"

Still not lifting his head, Steve nods. "Yeah. I don't really know what they're afraid of..."

"Well, they probably figure you're not in Kansas anymore and want to help," says Darcy, weakly. But really, she can see where having men in black suits trailing everywhere could feel a little confining. Heck, having men in black suits insist you work for them feels confining - and she at least gets nights and weekends off.

Steve looks up at her and his mouth forms this funny little 'o' of awe. "You've seen the Wizard of Oz?"

"Uh, yeah," says Darcy. "Everyone has seen it."

Steve huffs, and grins. "See, things aren't so different from Kansas!"

Darcy smiles. "Yeah." She taps her chin, and searches her pop-culture brain. "I also am familiar with The Hobbit, Lord of the Rings, Dick Tracy, The Phantom...and Superman."

Steve tilts his head at her and looks to the door. Darcy can't help but notice how freakin' All American he looks. Not the kind of guy she usually goes for, or who would ever go for her.

"You know, I owe you for this. Maybe I can take you out for lunch or something?" says Steve.

For a moment, Darcy just stares at him, the words not processing. But then she realizes that he's looking at her like he's kind of hurt. "Now?" squeaks Darcy.

"Um...yeah..." says Steve. "I mean, unless you think you'd get in trouble?"

She probably will, but what are they going to do, fire her? "I won't get in trouble," says Darcy, quietly wondering if this is a date.

Looking relieved, Steve says, "Good because I have no idea where I'm going."

Oh, right. Not a date, he's asking her because he's woken up in Oz. But Darcy is game anyway - she's been overlooked by hot aliens for Jane, and overlooked by hot assassins for other hot assassins, overlooked by hot billionaires for perky CEO types, and well, she's not in the league that dates hot aliens, hot assassins, hot billionaires, or hot superheros, but that doesn't mean she can't have fun. "Never fear, I will be your guide to the 21st century!" Darcy says gamely.

"Great!" says Steve.

As they walk to the door she winks at him and says, "I'll keep the robot police away from 'ya, and teach 'ya how to ride the hover cars."

He snorts. "I know you're making that up."

She shrugs.

"And quite frankly, I'm disappointed," Steve says shaking his head. "Not what I expected from the comics I read as a kid at all."

"You like comics?" says Darcy, perking up.

"You bet!" says Steve.

In her brain Darcy starts calculating the best way to get to the comic book store from headquarters. Yep. There's no reason she can't have fun.

x x x x

A few hours later, Steve's standing in front of her, a foot high stack of comic books in his hands, topped off with a box set of the full works of Tolkein - turns out Lord of the Rings came after the war. Darcy's got her own comics. They're standing in the entrance lobby of SHEILD HQ.

"I can't thank you enough for this, Darcy," Steve says. He's grinning ear to ear. "This has been the best day since..." he looks away.

Darcy looks down to keep from looking at his profile. She's been reminding herself all day that as fun as it is, it's just fun and friendly, not a date or anything, and she shouldn't get her hopes up, but it is kind of hard. (Damn you Disney!) He is really good looking, and kind of funny, and not as stuffy as she imagined him to be. Maybe...

She looks up and Steve's face has gone a little harder, he's standing straighter and looking over Darcy's shoulder. Hearing footsteps behind her, Darcy turns to see Agent Maria Hill approaching. Maria's wearing the de rigeur SHIELD black catsuit, and walking and looking like a runway model. Darcy suddenly feels short and plump in her sweater.

Steve tips his head, at Agent Hill. "Agent," he says. Darcy swears that his voice has dropped a little.

Agent Hill's eyes narrow at Steve. "The Director wishes to speak to you," she says.

"I'll be there in a few minutes," says Steve. His jaw is tense.

Pursing her lips, Agent Hill nods. "He'll be expecting you," she says. Turning, she walks away. Steve's eyes narrow and briefly flick over her body. Is there heat in that gaze? Darcy's sure there is. Not that she can blame him. If she went that way, she'd go for Maria too.

Steve turns back to Darcy. When his eyes meet hers they have none of that heat. Just resignation. "Thanks for the reprieve, Darcy," he says. "I had fun."

Darcy shrugs. Ah, yes, she's loads of fun. And safe. And safely in the friend zone. It's not just a place for nice guys. "Me too," she shrugs again.

Steve smiles. "You sure are easy to talk to, anyone ever tell you that?"

Darcy sighs, but she smiles. "All the time."

Steve smiles back, shifts the books a little awkwardly in his hands, and then says, "Well, see ya!"

"Yep, see ya!" says Darcy as cheerfully as she can manage.

Nodding a little awkwardly, Steve sets off in the direction Agent Hill came from. Darcy watches him go. She expects she'll see him, but only see him, no more than that.

And she's right. For the next few weeks, she sees Steve in passing. He always smiles at her - but she thinks it looks a little forced. She wants to tell him he doesn't have to worry, he won't lead her on, she knows where she stands - firmly in the friendzone. Or, well, really the acquaintance zone now since they don't really talk...but she never gets a chance to have that conversation, because Loki strikes again.

A/N:

For personal reasons I won't go into here, I really needed to write some crack. So voila! I hope it was funny.

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