Prompt: You find a man sleeping in your car.
Life was strange. Darcy's life in particular. She couldn't really say how strange other people's lives were. Then again the Battle of New York and the Dark Elves weren't exactly quiet affairs so maybe everyone's life was strange now. Not to mention now SHIELD had gone to shit. But honestly, even having lived through all that, she was completely stumped on what to do in this situation.
This situation being the hobo looking fellow currently napping in the backseat of her old beat up Camry.
She stopped. She blinked. She squeezed her eyes shut and hoped he disappeared. Maybe she was going crazy. After all, Dark Elves in London. Yeah maybe she was already there. Seeing things like evil elves from space and hobos in her car as not a good sign. But when she reopened her eyes, dude was still there. She cursed her still sane mind as she inched closer, her bag hanging precariously from one shoulder. She had just finished her classes for the day and had intended to go straight home and dive head first into bed. School may not be as taxing as running for your life, but it was still tiring. Especially when it was paired with still helping Jane and Eric in their labs. So she was definitely not in the mood for sleeping hobos, thank you very much.
Carefully palming her favorite Taser out of her bag, Darcy eased open the driver's door and set her bag inside. Leaning in just a little, (she didn't want to startle the dude and end up getting stabbed or spit on or whatever) she took a closer look at her unwanted guest. He seemed oddly familiar somehow. Maybe she'd seen him around this area before? Not like London was short on homeless people.
Suddenly the dude moved, startling her enough for her to stumble back a few steps. But all he did was snuffle in his sleep (definitely not cutely, dammit) and raise a hand to scratch at his nose before passing out again. Darcy stood frozen in fear. That hand - the man's hand - was terrifyingly distinguishable. Mostly because of how light reflected off it. Hands weren't supposed to reflect light!
With her heart in her throat, Darcy stepped closer again. She had to be sure she was seeing what she thought she was seeing before she called anyone. No need to have Jane or Thor panic if it turned out to be a coincidence. Yeah, because there totally could be some other hobo looking dude out there with a metal left arm. Running around. Breaking into cars. Taking naps in said cars. Riiiiiiight.
Why her car? Why did the Winter Soldier have to pick her car? Did the universe hate her that much?
Before she could come up with a game plan (one that would include running away in terror and calling Thor so he could inform his buddies in New York about the wintery one taking up residence in her car) the Winter Soldier's eyes snapped open. Darcy was not ashamed to say she nearly pissed herself as she scrambled away. The man was a lot bigger than she expected as he unfolded himself from the backseat of her car. For a moment she could do nothing but stare in wide-eyed fear as he stood in front of her, completely silent.
Just as she opened her mouth (probably to babble obnoxiously – it was sorta what she did in panic-inducing situations) a car backfired down the street, making her jump and spin away to see what had happened. She winced when she realized she's just given her back to one of the most deadly men alive. Praying to Sif (because chick was badass and totally worship-worthy) that she wouldn't die because of her stupidity, she slowly turned around.
Only to be met with a blank space where hobo-like man used to be. She stopped. She blinked. She squeezed her eyes shut. When she opened them again he was still gone without a single piece of evidence that he had ever been there. Once again she was forced to question her sanity.
"Son of a bitch!"