Chasing the Night

Summary: AVENGERS AU - A small encounter and a short glance was all it took to send an artist running through the streets of New York for one goal: to find the dancer that has jeté'd through his dreams.

A/N: Supposed to be my summer project, but better early than never.

Reviews keep me going. If you're liking the story, please review! I need to know if this story is worth NOT FAVE/FOLLOW WITHOUT LEAVING A REVIEW.

I never do disclaimers because I trust people are smart enough to decipher who owns what, but for safety measures...

Disclaimer: As it was in the beginning, is now and ever shall be, I, passionately happy, do not own any recognizable parties used in this fanfiction.


"So..."

"Darcy," Natasha sighs. "Don't even go there."

The brunette gives off a confused chortle, pirouettes off to the side and sits down, eyeing Natasha as the ballerina began to do a sequence of jumps across the room.

"Go where?" trills Darcy, feigning innocence.

Natasha halts her pirouettes and rolls her eyes, facing her new friend with a sigh. "Darcy, I've only known you since 8:30 last night and I already know where your mind is going."

"Where is it going?" Darcy blabs, an almost indecipherable smirk on her face.

Natasha stares her friend down for a moment, who stared back equally determined.

"What was that so for?" Natasha cocks her head to the side.

Darcy raises an eyebrow. "A conversation starter."

"Oh really?"

"Re-ally," Darcy fires back.

Natasha lets out a breath, sizing up the mischief in the brunette's eyes. After observing her friend for a second, Natasha snorts and places her hands on her hips. "So you weren't trying to ask me to help hook you up with Clint?"

"NO!" Darcy yells and flails upwards. At Natasha's smirk, Darcy deflates and plops down to the floor. "Well... maybe."

Natasha gives Darcy an amused bow and flutters over to the ballet bars. "I told you so."

Darcy sighs and walks over to the bar, and together they began a sequence of plies. "It's not like I have a chance with him anyways... I mean, he's obviously smitten with you."

Natasha shook her head. "He's like a brother to me."

Darcy stares disbelievingly at her new friend. "Is this a romantic movie? Because it seems to be heading in that direction."

"Oh, really?" Natasha snorts, pulling Darcy to their bags on the other side of the studio.

"Humour me," the ballerina challenges, plopping down next to her bag. "I've never seen a romance film."

"What?!" Darcy exclaims, her eyes widening into saucers. "You haven't lived until you see The Notebook. Or Dear John. Or The Last Song. Or... Any Nicholas Sparks movie. Lord, I feel so sad for you it's not even funny! Agh, I swear I will make you watch one of them and j-"

"- you're babbling," interrupts Natasha, rolling her eyes affectionately. "

"Ok, ok, lemme get on a jumpstart," Darcy exclaims as she plopped down on the floor beside her new friend, and Natasha could already see the gears in her head turning a million miles a minute. "Are you and Clint childhood bffls?"

"Bffls?" Natasha repeats, raising an eyebrow.

Darcy waves her off. "Oh, you know what I mean! Childhood best friends for life?"

Natasha shrugs. "I guess. We've known each other since I was in kindergarten."

Darcy squeals. "Exactly how it goes!"

Natasha waves her hand, urging her to continue her trail of thought.

"Ok, sorry sorry," giggles Darcy, "So usually in these movies, the boy and girl are childhood besties and the boy totally crushes on the girl from like, the first time he lays his eyes on her. Like, literally. It's this whole boom boom pow thing where he just looks at her and fireworks go off."

"Boom boom pow," Natasha repeats, cringing at the feeling of the words in her tongue.

Darcy rolls her eyes and ignores Natasha's comment. "But the girl - aka you - is totally oblivious to his crush."

Natasha just stared. "I thought you wanted to hook yourself up with him, not me."

"I veto my dibs," chirps Darcy. "He so obviously loves you!"

Natasha scoffs. "Not in that way."

"Really?" questions Darcy, giggling. "Then what do you call that look he gave you when he left?"

Natasha raised an eyebrow. "What do you call it?"

Darcy smiles. "Love!"

"Bullshit," bemoans Natasha.

"Bullshit," mocks Darcy, still as chipper as ever. "It couldn't be any more obvious. Imagine kissing him."

"Haha, not possible."

"Seriously, Nat please?" Darcy begs, sticking out her lip in such a puppy-like manner that Natasha already felt her resolve crumbling.

Natasha closes her eyes and blocks out Darcy's puppy whimpers, trying to imagine her best friend in a way she hasn't before.

Years of observation led Natasha to think that she would be the more dominant one in the potential relationship. Clint would be more subdued, as she sensed he was afraid of her (which she liked). However, Natasha could imagine him in bed, playing her like strings on his violin...

Mistaking Nat's parted lips as pleasured surprise, Darcy smirks."See where I'm getting at?"

Natasha shook her head, cringing at her thoughts. "I'm afraid I just can't follow."

Darcy rolls her eyes with a chuckle. "Your pupils are dilated."

"Do you even know what that means?" asks Natasha, furrowing her eyebrows.

Darcy smirks and goes into a singsong. "It means you're aroused!"

Natasha's jaw drops. "I am not-"

"- anyways," interrupts Darcy, smirking, "in these movies, there's always a love triangle! The girl always falls for some other dude that's not the boy! And that other dude would be the guy you were thinking of last night at the auditions...?"

"I told you," glares Natasha, "I wasn't thinking of anyone."

"Again, bullshit," winks Darcy. "Seriously, tell meeeeee!"

"I just met you yesterday," intones Natasha.

Darcy rolls her eyes. "This is a fast-paced city - everything you do will be made fast. Even our supertastic 15-hourish friendship!"

Natasha stared. "Supertastic."

Darcy lets out one exaggerated sigh. "Seriously, Tashaaaa! I wanna hear! Who were you thinking about yesterday?"

Natasha chuckles. "Well..."

And so she told her everything.

~.~

"Peggy?"

"Yes, yes, that's my name," replied the redhead, smiling a bright red-lipped smile. "Can I help you?"

"Uh..." Steve gulps, holding the flower bouquet behind his back.

Peggy gave another smile to the seemingly baffled blond, looking him over.

It wasn't everyday where some handsome gentleman comes into a place like this.

"... I thought your name was Natasha?" he stutters and Peggy chuckles.

"Like I said, prefer to be called Peggy," she replies.

"Peggy," Steve repeats.

Oh, this was not the girl I was looking for, he notes as he shoves the stems of flower bouquet ever so carelessly into his back pocket.

"And your name is...?" Peggy asks, a hint of a British accent in her query. Always the gentleman, Steve reaches out a hand (wiping the sweat off his pants, of course) and musters up a smile.

"Steve," he replies.

"Steve," she repeats.

And so it starts.

/

"So, are you new here?" inquires Peggy as she placed lipstick on a customer's lips.

Sitting next to the customer, Steve fiddles nervously with the hem of the makeup chair as he looked at Peggy in the reflection of mirror. "Yeah, just got in a month ago - planning to start at the School of Visual Arts on Monday."

Peggy hums. "SVA, hmm? You must be quite the Mr. Artistic, bowties and all."

Steve raises an eyebrow. "Bowties are cool."

Peggy chuckles. "Riiiiiight."

Steve coughs, watching Peggy swirl the blush brush around the woman's cheeks. "What about you? Are you new here?"

"No," Peggy states, wiping the woman's cheeks to evenly distribute the blush. "Been here for a year now since I got that scholarship at Juilliard."

"Juilliard?" Steve breathes. Maybe she was the Natasha in the park! "Have you had an audition recently?"

"No, I don't have to audition for sophomore year," replies Peggy, shooting down all of Steve's hope. "Only freshmen have to audition for entry."

"Oh," says Steve.

Oh.

Once Peggy shoos away the (satisfied) customer, she takes her place in the makeup seat and whirls around to face the artist in the other chair with a sheepish smile on her face.

"Sorry about that," she says, smoothing out the wrinkles of her slimming black dress.

Steve blushes, unsure on how to proceed with the conversation. "It's okay."

Peggy gives him a smile, pulling out a notebook from her makeup bag and starts flipping through the pages.

"So," begins Peggy. "I for one have many questions running through mind but I must ask - What brought you here? Did you just walk in because you thought I was hot?"

Steve's eyes boggles. "N-no."

Noticing this, Peggy smirks. "So what is it then? Fate? Destiny? A horse?"

"Well, you," replies Steve. " Or more precisely, Facebook."

Peggy raises an eyebrow. "Facebook?"

"Long story short," explains Steve. "I bumped into a girl in Central Park, and I - God, I don't even know. All I know is that she was the most beautiful girl I've ever seen and I just want to find her."

Peggy blinks. "And you thought I was her."

"Your Facebook name is Natasha," replies Steve. "And you look like a spitting image of her, except your eyes are brown and hers are emerald."

"Okay, I suppose I follow," Peggy nods. "But why did you stumble over my profile? And how?"

"We were looking for Natashas who attended dance schools in New York City," explains Steve. "You were the first in that list."

"So you just decided to spontaneously show up to see if I was her?"

Steve nods, a blush spreading across his cheeks. "Your profile did day you worked here at the Times Square Mac."

Peggy cocks her head to the side, seemingly thinking something over.

"My eyes are brown in my Facebook profile picture," she says finally, peering at the artist skeptically. "Something like that shouldn't slip past someone of SVA genius."

"I reasoned it to contacts," replies Steve. "I've heard of it as a trend amongst dames nowadays."

Peggy snorts. "Dames?"

Steve blanched. "I-I was raised in an old-fashioned family..."

"Alright, I believe you," chuckles Peggy. With one mischievous smile, the redhead pulls out a pen from her makeup bag and scrawls down on one of the papers in her notebook.

"You need more women in your life," she says, pulling out the page from her notebook while handing it to him. Steve gingerly pries it from her fingers, stuffing it into his pocket sheepishly. "Your conversational skills were quite undeveloped."

"I-I'm sorry," stutters Steve.

Peggy laughs. "Don't worry about it, okay?"

Steve nods.

A loud, boisterous cough emitted from the cashier desks, and both Steve and Peggy turned to see a woman glaring furiously at Peggy.

"What the hell are you doing?" she mouthed. "Do you want to be fired?!"

Peggy sighs. "Well, I suppose this is it then. But seriously Steve, consider it okay?"

Steve cocks his head confusedly. "Consider what?"

Peggy's eyes twinkle with mischief as she stands up. "The paper."

And with one twirl, she was gone.

Staring bemusedly after her, Steve pulls the paper out of his pocket, his eyes widening as he registered the message.

Call me, Mr. Artist. :* 555-0123 - Peggy

~.~

"Oh my god."

Natasha sighs. "Would you stop saying that?"

"Why would I stop repeating it because oh my god oh my god oh MY GOD!" Darcy exclaims, jumping up and down. She immediately does a series of flips around the room, squealing as she did so.

"DARCY!" Natasha roars, standing up in an attempt to gain a sense of control. "Calm down!"

"Natasha!" Darcy mocks, giggling. "How could I? That was the most romantic thing I've ever heard!"

Natasha just stares at Darcy, shaking her head. "It's not that big of a deal."

"Are you serious?!" Darcy exclaims. "Someone better take this and sell it to Disney! That's some good money right there!"

"Disney?" Natasha repeats.

"It's too cliche for words," Darcy squeals in reply, pulling her new friend into a tight hug. "Agh, I so wish I was you right now!"

Natasha sighs. "Do you really?"

"Yes! I just want your romance right now," She squawks, still screeching. Natasha thanked her lucky stars that the class hasn't started yet, hoping Darcy's energized mind would quell as soon as it could.

Preferably before someone else walks in.

"Look," Natasha says sternly in an attempt to silence her friend. "Like I told you, it was literally a two minute conversation. We didn't get any coffee, we didn't... screw each other. We just bumped into each other and all I know from him is that his name is Steve. I don't think I'll ever see him again."

"But it might work out!" Darcy exclaims and Natasha shakes her head.

"That's ridiculous, Darcy," snaps Natasha and regardless of her snarl tone, Darcy doesn't recoil, puppy-like hope shining on her face. "Life isn't a fairy tale and love does not exist. Drop it."

At this, Darcy's face falls. "Love does not exist? Are you kidding me?"

"Love is for children," she says nonchalantly.

Darcy's eyes widen to the size of saucers. "B-but -"

"Drop it," demands Natasha, hearing the tell-tale sound of footsteps.

Darcy acquiesced, half-sulking as she scoots closer to Nat and watches their fellow dancers pile into the room.

"I'll drop it for now," the brunette ballerina warns, before standing up and running to the ballet bars. "But you can't guarantee later."

~.~

"So tell me, my friend, why wasn't she the one?" inquires Thor, gulping down a grand portion of his coffee.

Steve sighs and looks out to the exterior of Times Square from the McDonald's window, watching as people skitter throughout the square like ants.

"Don't get me wrong, she was nice," says Steve, snagging a fry from Thor's plate. "But she certainly wasn't the girl I met in the park."

"But she is a dancer, no?" asks Thor, giving off a belch.

"Yeah, she talked about that," replies Steve. "But she's been attending Juilliard for a year now; my Natasha

just started."

"Your Natasha?" questions Thor. "You had a fifteen second conversation with her - that's not enough leeway to call her yours, friend."

"I know," intones Steve. Fishing out a balled up paper from his pocket, he threw it out between him and Thor.

"She gave me her number," replies Steve to Thor's confused look. "Thought I needed 'a dame in my life', but I'm not sure that's entirely appropriate."

Thor sat pensively for a few moments.

"She was nice, yes?" inquires the jock.

"Very nice," nods Steve.

Thor takes a breath.

"Well, my friend," he replies, taking a giant bite of his hamburger. "Give her a ring."

Steve's eyes bogged out of his head. "Give her a ring? Wh-?!"

"- a phone call," corrects Thor, chuckling. "She would seem to be one remarkable companion, no? Call her."

Steve sighs. "I only talked to her for five minutes; wouldn't that be a bit fast?"

Thor just stares. "My friend, need I remind you that you fell in love with a woman you bumped into in a park?"

Steve blinks. "Good point."

Thor chuckles heartily and stands up, reaching over to clap Steve's back. "This is just the beginning, my friend. Believe me, you will get used to it."