The following day was Saturday. Darcy's favorite day. It meant doing what ever she pleased. She started with a long bath. The kind with bubbles and candles even though it was morning. She had her headphones in and was singing along about broken hearts and jealousy and losing yourself on the dance floor. The beat was good and it drown out all other noise. With eyes closed, she could enjoy the warmth of the water. Enveloped in the steam, she felt safe.

The song came to end. Darcy opened her eyes and almost dropped her sacred iPod.

Natasha stood over her with a smirk.

"Christ-on-a-cracker," Darcy sputtered as she yanked the headphones off. She made no attempted to cover up. Wasn't like she had something Natasha hadn't seen before. Plus if the scary Russian was going to go to the trouble of breaking into her bathroom, she had probably earned a peepshow.

Romanov gave her a once over then nodded as if in approval. "Get ready. We leave in ten," she said, turning to head back out the door.

"Excuse me!" Darcy realized her tone may have not been the most respectful of the assassin as Natasha gave her a raised eyebrow look from over her shoulder. "Where are we going? I mean, do I need snow-shoes or a bikini or cowboy boots? Give a girl a hint."

Natasha only smiled. "Nine minutes, thirty seconds."

"Dammit," Darcy muttered as she scrambled out of the tub. She was sure this was some kind of test. She wasn't sure if it was a measurement for whether she was worthy of Natasha's friendship. Or maybe it was just to see if she was useful enough to keep around. Darcy was fairly certain they were past the whole I'm-gonna-kill-you-for-shocking-my-boyfriend thing. But maybe not. This could be an elaborate ruse to lure her out of the Tower where it would be easier to hide her body.

"Seven minutes," Natasha's voice called from the living room.

Darcy squeaked as she tried to yank her jeans on faster than was probably safe. The ends of her hair were wet but she could deal with that. She was more worried about essentials: cute underwear, bra, eye-liner, mascara, shoes. Her socks didn't match. Her glasses were fogged up from being in the bathroom. That didn't matter. She grabbed her purse and checked to make sure her tazer, phone, and wallet were accounted for.

"Done," she announced as she skidded into the living room.

The red head gave her a pleased smile. "Two minutes to spare. Grab a coffee."

"Oh thank god," Darcy sighed with relief. She snatched a to-go mug from the kitchen cabinet and had it filled before her time was up.

Following Natasha into the elevator, she kept her questions to herself. Mostly because she had coffee to occupy her runaway mouth. They went out the front, Darcy throwing a wave to Arnie the security guard on the way. There was a car waiting. A man exited the driver's side and came around to open the door.

"Ms. Rushman," he said with the ghost of a smile.

"Happy," Natasha said in greeting.

"Will there be any costume changes this time around," he asked as she slid in. Natasha didn't bother to respond.

Darcy took the other seat and sat demurely while they waited for Happy to get in and start the engine. He seemed to know where they were headed as he didn't ask for a destination. The radio was on, but the lack of conversation was wearing on Darcy after the first five minutes. It didn't seem to bother the Natasha. Her gaze was straight ahead.

"Happy is Pepper's bodyguard. She's letting us borrow him for the day to play driver. We are going to need him to help with the bags as well."

"Bags?"

Now Natasha looked over at her. "Yes. If you are going to hang around Barton and myself you're going to need a few additions to your wardrobe."

The two women shared a smile and Darcy knew this was beginning of a beautiful relationship.

"Wait. These additions aren't going to include a catsuit right? Cause these," she indicated her cleavage, "really aren't going to cooperate with that plan."

"No catsuit," Natasha promised, laughing.

The first few stores had been normal enough. They had purchased long sleeve shirts and pants in (unsurprisingly) black. Then hats and leather gloves. They had also gotten things Darcy hadn't been expecting including medical grade shears, stainless steel tweezers, enough pantyhose to outfit the entire Tower (okay that was exaggeration, but at least enough for all the Avengers), a cheese grater, and watches. Not the serious outdoors-man watches that included compasses and a little pocket for matches. These were dainty silver things that had no other purpose than telling time.

Darcy wasn't certain if all these things were related and Natasha was planning on using them on an upcoming mission. Or if the ex-Russian was just messing with her. (She was kinda leaning toward the latter especially with the cheese grater.) She refrained from asking.

The last store they visited was very different and far outside the city. It was little boutique that looked like it had been around for a half century or more. Natasha told Happy to wait in the car for this one as they wouldn't have much in the way of bags.

Entering Darcy heard a little chime of bells and the sound of a shotgun being cocked. Behind the counter were two old women. One holding the shotgun who spoke with menace. "You are not welcome here, ребенок."

Natasha had responded with something in Russian which caused the other woman to lay a hand on the weapon and force it down. "How can we help you," she said sweetly in unaccented English.

Apparently Natasha had a list for this place. She handed it over to the second woman. Darcy knew better than to ask, even when the first lady put down the gun. The second woman named Alina, began taking Darcy's measurements. This of course made the younger woman nervous. "You promised no catsuits," she called to Natasha who was browsing through several glass cases in the back.

Her only answer was a laugh.

Natasha kept her promise. There were no catsuits. There were some odd additions though. One had been a garter belt with a holster for her tazer. Her eyebrows had risen to her hairline when Alina explained what the garment was for. Another was a pair of lovely heeled boots that had hollow compartments in the sole. "For whatever the situation might call for," Natasha had told her.

While Natasha was busy in the changing room, Alina had leaned in close and in a low voice asked, "Who are you to her?"

"I'm - a friend, I guess. Why?"

Alina had gazed at her suspiciously before answering. "She has never brought another here before."

Darcy wasn't sure what to make of that, but it stayed on her mind as they returned to the Tower.

Clint was waiting in the garage when they arrived. "Welcome back, ladies. I figured you might need help with your haul."

"Bless you," Darcy said with conviction as she handed over a dozen bags into his waiting arms.

He gave gruff huff of laughter. "Don't think I've been blessed in years, kid. But I appreciate the sentiment." Waving her to the elevator, he called over his shoulder, "I'm gonna take this up for her, Nat. I'll come back in a minute to give you hand."

There wasn't a verbal response from the assassin but the two shared some kind of mystic communication that reduced an entire conversation to a set of eyebrow quirks and pursing lips.

Once the doors for the elevator closed, Barton grinned at her. "Thank you," he said. "Nat's been wound too tight ever since L-New York. You're good for her, but don't ask me why. Just keep being yourself and I'll be grateful." Darcy caught the way he brushed over Loki's name, but she was too taken aback by the rest of it to formulate a response.

The stop came for her floor and Barton helped her unload her bags into the entryway. He stepped back into the elevator, then stopped the door from closing with his foot. "I will be grateful, but don't think this makes us even for the tazer. Just a warning, kid." The door slid closed on his mischievously smiling face.

The next time Darcy stepped out of the Tower a week later she was on a mission. A mission to destroy Barton. She had on the super cute boots Natasha had gotten her. There was nothing in the secret compartments, Darcy just really liked how they looked plus they made her feel bad-ass. Stomping past the security desk in the lobby she threw Arnie a distracted wave. She couldn't stop to talk right now.

Hailing a taxi, she went to gather her necessary supplies. Her phone rang while she walked the aisles of the store that had been her destination. It was Thor's ringtone, a cliched rumble of thunder and crash of lightening. Odd. Thor never called her. Darcy wasn't quite certain that he liked the Midgardian device. He seemed to prefer having all his conversations face to face.

"Hello," she answered.

"Hey, kid." Barton. Her eyes narrowed and she glanced around on the off chance he had followed her.

"What do you want? And why do you have Thor's phone?"

He chuckled. "Thor's being a buddy and letting me borrow it. I wasn't sure you'd answer if I called from my number. Not that you have my number. We'll have to fix that." His tone was flirtatious but Darcy knew it was all for show. She actually enjoyed his playfulness most of the time. Now it wasn't so cute.

She let her silence tell him the level of her annoyance.

"I was calling to check on you. The net may have been pushing it. I realize that now. Tony really wanted me to test it out though and you always help with his experiments. There's no need to get upset."

"The net?! You think the net was the last straw." The net incident had been this morning. He had been testing one of the new arrows Tony had developed for him. The net itself was made of some stretchy material and the ends had powerful magnets which drew them together to capture the target. That had actually been funny after she'd gotten out. No the last straw had been when she had opened up her drawer of snacks in Jane's lab and found every last delicious chocolate missing. Only the wrappers left to taunt her.

"Oh," Barton said, finally realizing his mistake.

"You never come between a Lewis and her chocolate, Barton."

"Now Darcy," he tried for a consolatory tone. "I understand that there may have been a miscommunication about limits here, but there's no need to do anything rash."

"I'm not doing anything rash. I've thought this out very carefully," she said as she lifted the Super Soaker off the shelf.

"Lewis."

"Barton."

She could tell he was smiling now. "Bring it," he said and disconnected the call.

Oh she was going to bring it all right.

Darcy Lewis may not have been listed on the official Avenger's roster, but when she declared that Sunday nights were team bonding time no one argued. In the case of Tony and Barton, their silence may be have been due to Natasha's warning look from over Darcy's shoulder. For some unknown reason, to the men of the Tower at least, Natasha had taken Darcy under her wing like a younger sister. Sam had been the one to report it to Rogers first. He'd caught the two women discussing shades of red nail polish with the seriousness of how to disable atomic weapons.

Steve knew better than to ask either of the women if that was true. In the past he had been unsure how to speak to women and may have made that mistake. He understood a bit better now. Part of it may have been the new century he found himself in. Here women were more likely to speak their minds, more likely to be independent. Like Darcy.

The movie nights were a good idea. It helped with the team bonding. Though he had to admit that they were doing pretty well without it. They had been meshing in training sessions as well as in the Tower over the last couple months. Each of them had found their niche and without even discussing particulars they found a way to work cohesively.

Bruce had taken over outfitting the floor Tony had set up for medical. He had interviewed the best doctors and come up with several who would be on rotation along with a full time nursing staff. Of course, Tony had opened up the facilities for office workers in the building as well. He attempted to play it off as Pepper's idea but Steve was beginning to see through the billionaire's deflecting tactics. Pepper had put herself in charge of public relations for the Avengers and had been doing a fabulous job. Surprisingly when she had come looking for a spokesperson it had been Thor she'd gone after. Rogers had been ready to do his duty as a dancing monkey again, but it was unnecessary. While Thor was sometimes a bit rough around the edges he was Asgardian royalty, and he could bear that mantle with dignity when called upon.

Rogers found himself balancing his search for Bucky with running team practices and testing tactics. Even Stark had agreed with Steve taking over combat command. "Who better than a Captain to lead this merry band," he had quipped when questioned for his opinion. Tony was the mechanic. He had given himself the title. He was upgrading all their weapons and armor, excluding "Thor's magical shit" (Tony's words). However, he had given up on being in charge of building security. That had been handed over to one Maria Hill, ex-Deputy Director of SHIELD. She was handling it with precision and seemed serene no matter what level of crisis arose. Under her watch, Natasha and Clint had been unable to get past the third floor when they suddenly felt the need to test out the Tower defenses.

Natasha wasn't only skulking around in her catsuit. Though Steve thought she sometimes did so just for fun. The Black Widow had blown all her covers, true. But now the whole world knew not to cross her, and she used that to the Avengers advantage. She was making contacts, racking up favors owed to her, and setting up her own network of intelligence gatherers. Rogers may have been tired of the spy game but he still understood the need for such things. The fact that Natasha's contacts were assisting in the search for Bucky may have helped sway his opinion. Barton often would go with Natasha to act as her handler and back-up. Once in a while, Steve would catch Natasha slipping out alone. Those times she looked more grim than usual and Clint wouldn't been seen for a few days.

Steve would admit that he was slow to realize what was happening. Truth be told, he only put it together because he ran into a bleary-eyed Sam one morning after seeing Natasha leave solo the night before. Sam had stumbled and righted himself against the wall. "Sorry, Cap. Didn't see you coming?"

"You alright, Sam?"

"Just a sleepless night. Nothing to worry about."

The turmoil in his eyes told a different story. "Yeah. You want to try that again, son," he asked as he crossed his arms.

Sam huffed a weak laugh before growing serious. "I'm sorry Cap. I haven't got a right to tell you as its not my story. Hopefully I can explain it someday soon." With that he'd shuffled off to find his bed.

At first, Steve had thought that it had been something to do with Darcy. However, the brunette was perky as ever and seemed untroubled when he saw her a few hours later. "What's up, Rogers," she asked as she stirred the pasta sauce she had simmering on the stove. Her hips swayed gently to the music Jarvis had playing through the rooms speakers.

"You can call me Steve, you know."

Her shoulders had tensed at his words and her response had the barest hesitation to it. "Sure thing. Steve it is."

Obviously they weren't back to the easy banter they used to have. "I was wondering if I could request a movie for this Sunday. Bruce mentioned it during our last chess match and I'll admit I'm interested."

Now she faced him and smiled. "I'm sure we can accommodate. Do you know what its called?"

"Jurassic Park."

"Really? I'm surprised Bruce would want to watch something even remotely about genetic experiments gone wrong. Maybe he's finally been talking to Sam."

"Why would Bruce be talking to Sam," he asked.

Darcy gave him a look like she thought he might be a little stupid. "Sam is a counselor," she said as if that explained everything. He was sure his face didn't show signs of enlightenment so she continued. "You've talked to him, right? He's good at what he does. No pressure. I haven't had a session with him or anything but I'm pretty sure Tony has, and I know Thor definitely went. Most of his time lately has been with Barton at Natasha's request. Though I'm not supposed to know that so you better keep your patriotic lips sealed," she said, pointing her spoon at him.

He bit back a chuckled and nodded. "Consider them sealed."

"Good."

He hadn't been sure how to continue the conversation from there so he had seen his way out. It had been enlightening though. It made sense that Sam was counseling the Avengers. They all had traumas in their pasts, demons that clawed at them. Most of them even had recent traumas. Barton had walked around with a god in his head. That was bound to screw with him. It was a testament to Clint's strength that he appeared as steady as ever. He wondered if the reason none of them had seen Clint since the battle of New York had been because the man was trying to heal. That lead him to thinking about Natasha and how she had never mentioned Barton the whole time they had worked together in D.C. Had she been protecting him? Or had Barton been keeping her away?

What about now? Darcy had said that Natasha had requested Sam's help, not that Clint had asked for it.

Curiosity ate at him, but he wouldn't pry. Privacy was important to him. If his teammates didn't want to discuss these things with him then he wasn't going to force them.

He did have to know if Barton was functioning though. As the de facto Captain of this team he had to know what the strength and weakness were of each of them. If Clint wasn't ready to be out in the field with them then he had to know. He would ask Natasha. She was always blunt with him even when it exposed her own flaws.

When Natasha returned from her solo mission, he was able to catch her in the gym, running through her intense stretching routine. As Steve watched from the door, he noted that it wasn't like the tranquil techniques Banner used during his yoga sessions. Natasha's movements were impassioned. She pushed her limits and he wondered if she was fighting against her demons or if she was punishing herself.

It was easy to tell when she became aware of his presence. Her movements loosened and slowed. She was reeling it all back in, all those turbulent emotions she had revealed. That brief glimpse of what she hid made Steve wonder if Natasha was talking to Sam too.

"What can I do for you, Cap," she asked as she flowed into a lotus pose.

He remained leaning against the door frame, keeping the tension from his body. This would not be an easy conversation, but he was going to face it head on. "Is Barton clear headed enough to be active?"

Her eyes tracked to his but there was no other reaction from her body. He could see in her gaze that she understood all the implications of the question, but she didn't hesitate with her answer. "Yes. He's clear to be on the active roster." She sighed and slide to her feet. "His issues won't influence his performance in the field. Sam is only working with him at my request."

"And what about you?"

Now her eyes grew cold. "What about me?"

"Are you working with Sam too?"

Her eyes narrowed and her fingers flexed the tiniest bit as if she was keeping herself from going for a weapon. "Not that its any of your business Rogers, but no. I have my own outlets."

Steve was smart enough not to question what those were. He had already pushed her far enough for today. "Then we're good," he said instead.

She gave a curt nod and exited to the showers without a backward glance.

For the next two days, Steve stayed out of Natasha's way. She prowled around like a cat with a sore paw and was likely to hiss at any one that got too close. The only person who seemed oblivious of the danger was Darcy. The girl had gumption and showed it on the third day of Natasha's sore mood.

Bruce and Steve had been having their chess match in the common area, which had become a weekly ritual. This time Thor was observing. He was attempting to learn this "Midgardian game of logic and strategy". Both men were happy to teach him and were explaining moves as they played. Darcy was in the kitchen and they could hear her singing along to whatever song was pumping through her headphones. Steve smiled when he heard her hit a particularly high note.

"She has a decent voice," Bruce comment, not taking his eyes from the chessboard.

"Indeed," Thor heartily agreed. "Darcy is most talented. She is reminiscent of the departed Frigga, a true keeper of the hearth," he complimented as he took a bite from the strawberry pop-tarts Darcy made sure were always on hand for him.

They all knew of Frigga. Thor had talked about his deceased mother on more than one occasion. This was the first Steve had heard the Asgardian compare her to Darcy though. Steve opened his mouth intending to ask about the "keeper of the hearth" bit but Darcy choose that moment to dance her way into the room, distracting him. She was carrying a tray of freshly baked muffins in one hand that she placed on the dining table. Then she produced a rag from her back pocket and began dusting, still swaying her hips in tune with the music though she limited herself to only humming.

Steve had known that there wasn't a cleaning staff for the Avengers levels. Once a month, Tony had a company come in to clean things like the gym and communal showers. The personal apartments were kept by each person and everyone cleaned up after themselves when using the common areas. The rest of day-to-day cleaning of the common areas was managed by Tony's various robots. It hadn't really occurred to Steve that there were some jobs that the robots probably weren't suited for.

"She's been doing that since she got here," Bruce commented, as if he had been following along with Steve thoughts. Rogers turned back Bruce and saw the man's small knowing smile. "I'm not sure how she does it, but nothing ever seems to collect dust around here or in the labs. And there are never any crumbs or coffee rings on the counters down there either, which doesn't usually happen in research labs."

Rogers wasn't sure how to respond to that. He had the feeling that Bruce was trying to push them together in much the way that Natasha had tried to throw various potential partners at him back in D.C.

As if thoughts of her had summoned the assassin, Natasha came off the elevator. Her eyes flicked over the men with disdain, but she said nothing as she walked by. She headed for the muffins on the table, but was intercepted by one dancing Darcy. She grabbed at Natasha's hand and bounced their hips together.

"We should totally go dancing," Darcy exclaimed, her voice louder than necessary due to the headphones. "Come on, Tasha."

Bruce and Steve shared a look at the nickname.

"I'll agree to that training session you've been bugging me about if you come dancing," Darcy bargained. That made the Russian smile.

"Only if Clint can tag along," she responded loud enough for the brunette to hear.

"Deal," Darcy squealed as she shimmied against the older woman. Natasha allowed it and even swayed a little to the music she couldn't hear. "Oh, I can total wear that garter belt we got!"

Steve had to swallow to wet his dry throat. An image flashed through his mind of Darcy and Natasha trying out lingerie together. A glance at Bruce's face revealed a blush which told him the man was imagining the same thing. Thor didn't seem to understand what a garter belt was or maybe he didn't find the idea appealing as he just continued to munch on his pop-tarts.

Natasha's eyes snapped to them and she gave them a small glare, daring them to say anything. None of them were stupid enough to open their mouths. Thankfully, Darcy dragged Natasha off into the kitchen allowing the men to let out the breaths they had been holding.

"I, um, I have to...go," Bruce mumbled as he stood and hurried to the elevator. Steve wasn't certain but he thought he heard the beep of the man's heart rate monitor beneath the ding of the elevator.

Steve excused himself as well. He definitely needed a cold shower.

Jurassic Park had been a big hit on movie night. Rogers had to admit that it had been one of the better movies they had played so far. Darcy declared that they couldn't watch only the first one, so the next two successive movie nights had been the sequels. The week following, the women, including Pepper, ganged up and demanded Dirty Dancing. That had prompted Barton to request To Wong Foo, stating that it was the best thing Patrick Swayze had ever done besides Road House. No one had really objected, but the smirk Barton had given him when he said the title made Steve think there was something about it that Barton thought would make him uncomfortable.

Steve was not worried. Most of the 21st century didn't shock him as much as everyone assumed. It wasn't as if there had been no homosexuals or cross-dressers or sex back in the 40's. People hadn't been as likely to flaunt those things back then. Nor had cameras been so readily available as they were now. Harder to air the neighbor's dirty laundry to the world if you didn't have some sort of proof.

Though he didn't really care what movie they were going to watch, he was looking forward to movie night. Ever since Jurassic Park, he had been sitting next to Darcy. By some unspoken agreement, the rest of the team made sure that the seat beside Darcy always remained open for him. Darcy either didn't seem to notice or she didn't mind. They were slowly working their way back to the closeness they'd had during the first two weeks they had known each other. Due to movie night, Steve always had a safe topic to talk to her about. And if, under the cover of the darkness, he found excuses to whisper questions in her ear or touch her hand all to the better. They were always legitimate questions though, he didn't want her suspicious of his motivations yet. He still hadn't found a way to apologize properly to her yet, but he had apologized to Sam.

Wilson had only laughed at him. "Man, if you think I had a chance, you need to get your eyes checked," he had said.

Regardless of Sam's insinuation, Steve wasn't sure Darcy would be on board for more than friendship. He knew he was ready. The only thing holding him back was Bucky.

As they watched three drag queens raid the only boutique in the small town, he caught Darcy's grin out of the corner of his eye. She was beautiful, especially when she smiled. It suddenly occurred to him that he had never told her that. He should.

There were many things he had never told Bucky. He thought he had lost his chance when Bucky fell into that ravine. He thought he would never be able tell Bucky that he had always been more than a friend, that he had been more than brother. And that Steve had secretly dreamed of other ways they might be close.

He had never opened his mouth because those secret dreams were things that the neighbors would have disapproved of. And he never knew Bucky's thoughts on the subject because he'd never been brave enough to ask. Now he might not get that chance even though Bucky was still alive. It was obvious that they weren't going to catch Bucky. No matter how hard they searched or what tactic they used, they were always a step or two behind.

And it wasn't like Bucky was going to give them a clue.

Abruptly his phone rang, drawing groans from Tony and Barton. "Jesus, Rogers, don't you have any manners," Tony taunted.

Steve rolled his eyes but ignored them. Pulling his phone from his pocket he found the screen displaying a blocked number. His hand hesitated over the answer button, but he couldn't ignore any calls.

"Hello?"

"Captain Rogers," a eerily familiar voice said. "I was wondering if I might get you to sign those trading cards. Fury finally gave them back."

Steve felt the punch to his gut, and he tried not to react. Next to him he felt Darcy stiffen. She knew something was wrong. She scrambled for the remote and muted the movie.

Into the silence, he spoke one word. "Coulson." Everyone froze.

"Yes, sir."

"You're alive." It wasn't a question.

"Yes, sir. I would be quite happy to tell you the whole story, when you come to headquarters."

"What makes you think I'm going to come?" Anger was burning in his chest. Coulson had been alive. Fury had known. Another betrayal.

"I seem to have found something of yours. Or should I say, he found us."