a/n Quick warning: This chapter deals with some serious topics somewhat lightly. A bit of inappropriateness when Darcy teases Steve. (And while writing a certain bit, I fully admit I was with Steve, trying not to loose my lunch…) And, yes, the pairings are still Clint/Coulson, pre-Steve/Tony, pre-Darcy/Bruce, Jane/Thor.
…
4. Steve Rogers
It was past six when Steve realized Tony hadn't been upstairs yet today.
He knew the man was most likely busy and would refuse to leave whatever project in which he was embroiled for something as pedestrian as food. Still, Steve did have the best luck at dragging the man from his lab and back up to the common area kitchen to eat.
Bracing himself to deal with the recalcitrant genius who had become his friend, Steve took the elevator down to Tony's workshop, stepping out to find Tony already eating.
There was a pan of lasagna, the kind that had been made from scratch, at home, sitting on a workbench that had been dragged over beside the loveseat and armchair set up in one corner.
Tony sat in the chair, while a woman who Steve had seen a few times around SHIELD and the Tower, without having actually been introduced to her, was in the other. She wore a hooded sweatshirt and jeans, both well-worn in, and her feet were bare.
Some kind of engine sat off to the side, unfinished, and Tony had oil on his hands, shirt, face, even in his hair. But somehow this girl had convinced him to pause in his work and take time off to eat.
Then he heard what she was saying, and understood how she had bribed Tony.
"-no, probably the funniest is the time Clint missed a shot. We were in Milwaukee, there was this little competition going on for sharpshooters, and I wanted the prize."
"Which was?"
"500 smackeroos at the biggest mall complex they've got out there. Which, hello? That was just weird. I mean, sharpshooting competition. How many sharpshooters do you know that have a mall crawling dependency? None of that's important though. What is important is that, just before it was his turn to shoot, Clint got hit by a freaking car. He walked away with a sprained ankle, a few bruised ribs, two broken fingers and a concussion. Still, when I told him it was okay if he didn't compete, since he clearly wasn't gonna win, he told me to shove it up my-"
Steve cleared his throat, and both of the pair turned to face him. Tony waved. "Hey, Cap! Come on over. Grab a seat, pull up a plate, marvel at the ineptness of our teammate!"
Darcy reached over and punched the man in the arm, while a confused Steve wandered closer to sit beside the female.
"Clint isn't inept, jackass."
"Riiiight. So that time in Elden Pueblo, Arizona, that wasn't his fault?"
"Oh, no, that totally was," she giggled, then snarked, "But the rest of the time, it's generally the universe trying to screw things up."
Tony sighed. "Yeah, I get that. So, what happened next?"
"This guy, one of the other competitors, comes up to us, tells Clint he hasn't got a chance in hell, and then grabs my ass. So Clint-" Then she stopped, staring at the man beside her. Steve fidgeted, cheeks burning, unsure what had drawn her attention, until she gushed, "Oh my god, his blushes are even cuter than yours!"
Steve glanced sidelong in Tony's direction and was shocked to discover that the "man without shame" (Pepper had called him that once.) was, indeed, flushed pink at the very mention of said reaction.
Then the captain's attention was forced back to the forthright young lady when she put aside her plate, plopped down in his lap and wrapped her arms tightly around him, pushing the chest more suited to a pin-up girl than a college student against his torso and burying her face in his neck. "Can I keep him? Pleeeeease, Tony? I know he's a national treasure and all, but I promise to feed him three meals a day and give him a nice, warm home, and to only debauch him a little bit!"
Steve guessed his expression must have been helplessly screaming for rescue, because rather than a normal, joking reaction, Tony literally shot out of his seat, plate and food flying, to yank Darcy off the super soldier, before planting himself firmly in front of Steve. The girl pouted for a moment, full lips trembling and eyes wide, than she laughed, a loud, free sound.
"Right, sorry, I forgot. Hands off your man, promise!"
She stole Tony's seat as Dummy whirred over, doing his best to clean up his creator's mess with a broom held clumsily in his mechanical claw.
"Thanks, Dummy. You're the best," Darcy complimented the robot, leaning over to drop a kiss on him, which left behind a bright red lipstick print.
In response, Tony's first AI began spinning in ecstatic circles, uselessly scattering the food further.
"Shit, Dummy! Dummy, what the hell, you're just- You're only making it worse, stupid-!" Tony yelled, before spinning to point at Darcy, who watched him with false innocence. "And you!"
The bot of the same name chirruped, beginning to roll forward from under a nearby desk, until Tony waved. "No, no, no! Not You the idiot piece of programming and robotics I designed, you, Darcy Lewis. You, Darcy, I will not have you doing any more messing around with my AIs! JARVIS is already over the goddamn moon about you, which that's just- I mean, wrong. Wrong, on so damn many levels! I will not have you corrupting and enslaving the rest of them with your undeniably quirky charm! I just won't! Got it?"
The woman raised an eyebrow, clearly unimpressed by Tony's tirade. Then she put on a fake British accent, and gleefully began an overdramatic monologue. "It is far too late for such foolish denials, Mr. Stark. They are mine now, and you shall not receive them back. And although it appears that you have given enough strength to your comrade-in-arms to resist me, the incorruptible Captain America will soon be mine as well. Best beware, unless you should lay claim first, I will return and steal your captain away."
Steve sat unmoving, the disbelieving audience, and distantly noticed when JARVIS did his part by lowering the lights all throughout the workshop, leaving only a single brilliant beam to continue shining strongly over Darcy.
Tony's response was irrational. A growl through clenched teeth, and slipping into a fighting stance from where he still stood before Steve. "Mine."
The single word sent an oddly pleased shiver across Steve's skin, and made the hair at the back of his neck stand at attention.
Then JARVIS brought back up the regular lights, Darcy smiled, Tony slumped (Finally seeming to notice what he had revealed, although Steve still wasn't sure he entirely understood.), and the girl tilted sideways so she could look around the formerly hostile genius and catch the super soldier's gaze.
"So, 1940s, huh?"
Bemused by the strange segue, the man nodded. "Yes?"
"You got any oldie hang-ups?"
"I'm afraid I don't understand the question," admitted Steve, reaching out to tug Tony down beside him.
Darcy pushed her glasses to sit more firmly on her face and slumped against the cushioned back of the chair. "Okay, let's start with the basics. No segregation. Blacks and whites and everyone else all mixing together, afforded equal opportunities at everything, skin color and ethnicity no longer a big, mondo issue. Does that bother you?"
Steve snorted. "If it did, I'm sure there are a few hundred ways that Commander Fury could think to reeducate me using something as mundane as paperclips."
"True. Except that doesn't actually answer my question."
Steve blinked over at Tony, but the man was staring at him with curious eyes. He recognized that look. It was the same one Tony wore after a night of blackout programming while trying to deconstruct whatever he had created while drunk. The light in that face said he was fascinated, interested, excited, and that he wanted to understand.
So Steve answered truthfully. "It really doesn't bother me. During the War, fighting HYDRA, we took whatever allies were available. My group, the Howling Commandos, we had all sorts. And we never cared who had dark skin or light skin, whose parents were from Asia or Europe or America. It wasn't important.
"It was nice to wake up and see that people accept that now. I trusted those men with my life. Why should that change simply because society believed that people with white skin were better than the alternatives?"
By the end of his answer, Tony's eyes were as soft as Darcy's smile.
Then the student continued. "Right. So how about women's rights? Equality in the workplace, women choosing to work instead of staying home and raising the kids, both sexes being sent out to the front lines in Iraq as soldiers. Does that freak you out?"
Chuckling, Steve shook his head. "I was assigned under Officer Peggy Carter. On the first day of basic training, when one of the biggest recruits there scoffed at her, she knocked him off his feet with one punch. Women are just as capable as men."
"Cool." Darcy narrowed her eyes and her face went blank. "And alternate sexualities?"
That one had Steve glancing down at his hands, knotted together in his lap. Tony was stiff beside him, and the workshop felt heavy from the waiting silence.
"I never really… thought about it, back then," he explained slowly. "I knew that there were guys who, when there weren't any dames to be had, they'd, uh, "make do". But I- I mean, I'd never even had a date. What would I know about- about any of that?"
Darcy crossed her legs underneath her and tilted her head. "I get that. You're totally a virgin, no problem. But if, say, I told you I find women attractive-"
Tony exclaimed, "Hah!" and they both turned to glare at him until he subsided.
Darcy continued. "Anyway, if, for example, I told you I was interested, sexually interested, in Natasha, does that disgust you?"
Before he was aware of it, Steve had already begun shaking his head.
"Why?" Darcy pressed.
"Because…" He trailed off, trying to organize his thoughts. "Because it's the choice of the individual. I have no right to force my beliefs on you, or to stop you from caring for those you love. And it's not like I can judge, since I-" Abruptly cutting himself short, he shrugged.
Darcy's grin was enormous when he peered up. Then it took on a strange glint. "How about tentacle porn?"
Steve choked on air. "What?"
"Y'know, people who get all hot and bothered with, like, tentacled monsters."
Staring in frank disbelief, it took Steve a moment to recognize the teasing in her tone. "You… you're joking?"
Tony burst out laughing hard enough that he looked like someone being tasered.
Darcy, on the other hand, shrugged. "Not really. I mean, I don't get off on it, but there are totally people who do. Mostly people who are Japanese, and they've kinda cornered the market on worldwide crazy. But, yeah, people."
Steve could only shake his head, doing his best not to gag as his mind tried its hardest to erase the vague pictures that had sprung into being with Darcy's original question.
Winking at Tony, Darcy declared, "I guess we found out the line at which Steve's kinks are not everyone's kinks."
The billionaire, who had just begun to regain control of himself, was catapulted right back into a new wave of mirth that almost caused him to fall out of his seat.
Darcy, meanwhile, smirked and focused on Steve as she added, "You know, tentacle porn has been around since the 1800s. There was this one artist who-"
Steve felt himself going pale, and she took pity on him. "Fine, fine, no details."
Tony rediscovering his ability to breathe, finally gasped, "My god, how do you even know this shit?"
"College student, remember?" Darcy answered, pointing to herself. "I took this class called Sexuality Throughout History, and let me tell you, the Roman emperors were some seriously kinky bastards. There are these records of-"
Steve was blushing again, and Tony sent a barely apologetic shrug his way. "Okay, enough, Darcy. I think the old guy's gonna burst into flames if he gets any more red." Then the genius belayed his own words when he grinned at the girl. "Except, you and Natasha, huh? I mean, good on ya, if you ever get up the balls to try, she's got some seriously fine assets, but, really? That's like, I don't know, trying to date a great white shark or something."
Darcy scoffed. "Tony, it was an example. Holy shit, but you're dense. I mean, sure, if I had even the slightest lesbian tendencies I would be all over that like America on the Cap, and that probably says something pretty derogatory about my self-preservation instincts because Nat is terrifying, except, no. I go for guys. Nat's not the one I'm after on your little super powered baseball team."
"Who is?"
Her silent smile was almost scary.
Then she stood and headed for the exit, casually throwing over her shoulder. "Besides, you're the one who hasn't had the balls to admit that you've fallen for Steve there, Tony. And from the incredulous and flattered blush lighting up his cheeks, I'd have to say he's not necessarily as opposed as you thought. Get a move on, you two. You're head over heels, so do something about it."
Stepping into the elevator and leaving behind the gaping men, Darcy smiled gently. "Hey, JARVIS?"
"Yes, Darcy?"
"Can you lock off the elevator to the lab and make sure no one bothers them for a little while?"
"Of course," was the AI's pleased response. After a momentary pause, he finally mentioned, "They appear to have taken your advice. Where would you like me to send the recorded proof?"
Patting the wall, Darcy's grin turned predatory."Clint. He owes me a hundred bucks, not to mention that dude seriously needs to learn to quit making bets with me."
"To be fair," pointed out JARVIS, "You do tend to cheat."
Bouncing on her toes, she blew him a kiss as the door bing-ed open and she headed out towards her rooms. "Well, duh. Why rely on luck when I can rely on me?"
"I find myself unable to argue with your logic, Darcy."
