Written for: deprough. October 18th, 2018 Sam/Darcy Plot fic with Darcy framed by HYDRA.

Darcy Lewis was not a superhero. She was not a government agent. She was not a politician.

If she was anything, it was normal. Her parents were both accountants. Their claim to fame was doing the mayor's taxes every year. She coasted through high school and college with Bs and Cs helped in no small part by her impulsive decision to take a summer internship in New Mexico that had nothing whatsoever to do with her major. Her days involved keeping house at Jane's lab and making sure all her emails were answered in a timely manner. On any given night, she could be found on the couch, partially dressed and browsing Netflix.

The simple truth of the matter was this: you didn't get much more ordinary than Darcy Lewis. And that was fine by her. Superhero nonsense inundated her daily life, and as cool as it was to be mildly acquainted with Tony Stark and Bruce Banner, Darcy preferred a tub of chocolate ice cream and the new season of Stranger Things to saving the world.

So how, she wondered while running down some random street in some random European country she didn't know the name of while an international news report plastered her face on every television screen with the words DANGEROUS FUGITIVE underneath, had she become a wanted terrorist?

The streets were crawling with cops. Amazing how fast law enforcement here worked when national security was on the line. Maybe they should send some of their guys stateside.

Darcy peeked through the double doors of the abandoned building she'd taken refuge in. The place was damp and full of rat droppings, but it was better than taking her chances out there. Most of the cops had their weapons drawn. The chief was speaking rapidly in French, and while it'd been years since her high school language classes, Darcy picked up a few keywords like 'dangerous' and 'kill'. Whatever was in those bullshit reports must've been pretty bad.

"Lord, what did I do?" She sunk to her knees, fighting back tears of anguish. "What did I do to deserve this? Is it because I ate bacon that one time? I know it wasn't kosher, I just wanted to know what it tasted like. I'm sorry!"

Stomping footsteps came from outside and Darcy held her breath. She ran a finger over the taser in her pocket. It was almost out of juice, but if she was lucky, she might get one last good hit out of it. She stood up on jelly legs as the door creaked open.

The next few seconds went like this:

Darcy's taser sputtered and died.

A smoke bomb went off next to the police officers, sending them running.

Cold fingers wrapped around her mouth as she was pulled against a hard body and dragged kicking and screaming into the alley.

A van pulled up and her attacker to threw her in the back.

The next few hours went like this:

Darkness.

Darcy awoke to tires rolling over a gravelly road, knocking her head against the metal floor. She groaned in agony as memories of the last few days came crashing down. The car was slowing, but with no windows and no way to mark the time, they could be in Australia for all she knew.

'I should've charged my phone before I became a wanted criminal.'

She kept her useless iPhone close at hand as the car came to a full stop. The front door opened and closed. Her captor walked to the side door which was then unlocked. Darcy crouched down with her lousy excuse for a weapon at the ready. If she had to die, she was going out swinging.

The door opened. A hulking shadow of a man appeared. He stepped into the light and Darcy… slumped over. Her head was suddenly killing her. "What the everloving fuck, dude?"

Bucky Barnes smirked, offering her a hand like he could make the switch from kidnapper to gentlemen and she'd just accept it without question. "Sorry, didn't mean to scare you." He led her through a doorway and down several flights of stairs into the basement. "The cops were on my tail and I had to get you out of there ASAP."

"How'd you even know where to find me?"

"We've been tracking you ever since the warrant went out for your arrest. Here's a tip. Next time you want to hide your identity, don't use your mother's maiden name as an alias."

"Well, excuse me if I skipped that day in 'Fugitive 101'," Darcy snapped. "And who the hell is we? You got a boss now?"

"You could say that," said a disembodied voice which was subsequently embodied when Jane appeared at Bucky's side. "I keep him clean and well dressed, so I guess that makes me the boss."

"You don't do either of those things," Bucky said, wrapping an arm around her, "you just have a shower and a washing machine. And if you're the boss how come you're always calling me 'sir' when we-"

"JANIE!" Darcy threw herself at her friend. She would've knocked her off her feet were it not for the solid brick wall that was Bucky's torso. "Oh god, Jane. I thought I'd never see you again! I thought you wouldn't believe me!"

"Darcy, it's been four days since we last saw each other." Jane tried to push her off, but Darcy had her in a vice grip. "And of course I believe you. You're afraid to kill a spider, much less a foreign dignitary."

"It's true! I'm a total wimp!" Darcy cried into Jane's shirt, soaking it through with tears. "I've missed you guys so much. I never realized just how much I appreciate you and-"

"That's all very sweet of you," said Jane, patting Darcy awkwardly on the back, "but maybe we should do this later? Like after we've come up with a plan for clearing your name?"

"Can't we just change our identities and move to Mexico?"

"I'm afraid not."

"Dammit, I like Mexico." Darcy released Jane and sat on a desk. "Okay, what's the plan? Because aside from Mexico, I got nothing."

"You know it's not too late to turn her in," Bucky whispered to Jane.

"I can hear you!"

Bucky smiled innocently and Darcy wondered if punching him out would be worth the broken bones. "Luckily, we already have everything figured out. All you need to do is stay here and let us take care of it."

"Are you implying that I should curl up in the corner like a damsel in distress and let the big strong heroes save me?"

"Pretty much."

"Okay, that sounds good," Darcy said, all bravado gone in an instant. "I am in way over my head and I cannot deal with this. Yesterday I went to the bathroom twelve times because I'm so scared."

"Twelve times?" This was a new voice Darcy had never heard before. It came from a man she'd never seen before, who appeared from behind a gap in the wall and flashed his blindingly perfect smile in her face like it wasn't an actual lethal weapon. Which it was. "Damn. Now I know you're not a terrorist."

"Darcy, this is Sam Wilson," Jane said, "you might know him as Falcon."

"I do." She maybe had a poster of him on her door and she possibly had a dream once where they were in bed and his tongue was doing wonderful things to her breasts.

"So you're the great Darcy Lewis." Sam shook her hand and she almost forgot to let go. "Nice to finally meet you."

"I'm not great," Darcy said instead of 'you too' or 'thank you for helping to clear my name' or anything else a normal, not terrified person would say.

Sam chuckled. "I've heard different."

"Sam's gonna watching your back for a while," Bucky said. "He was the best we could do on such short notice. Sorry about that."

Sam shot Bucky a look. "You know, I think a lot sometimes about how much better Jane could do."

"Okay!" Jane got in between them before Bucky could punch Sam's lights out. "Everyone relax. We're moving out of here soon so we'll all need our strength."

Jane was right in many ways, most of which she wouldn't know until one and a half seconds later when an explosion took out the far wall. The attack killed the power, but flashes of gunfire gave Darcy enough light to see Bucky shove Jane behind a metal table and then use the nearest armored officer as a flail to knock three more guys to the ground. While he systematically decimated his half of the attack squad, Sam grabbed Darcy and took to the air. He flew far above his half, raining down fire like a mechanical death angel. Darcy had no idea how many were left by the time they soared out the window.

"What about Jane and Bucky?" she shouted over the wind and through a mouthful of hair.

"Don't worry. They know where to meet us."

He kept low enough that she could breathe and not die of hypothermia. Flying without an aircraft was so much less cool than it looked in the movies. If Darcy made it through this, she'd be writing a strongly worded letter to Hollywood about their irresponsible depiction of flight travel. Speaking of which, a helicopter was now on their tail. They weren't shooting yet, but those mounted guns were like a bunch of evil faces glaring at Darcy. All they wanted was a chance to tear her apart.

"Reach into my belt," Sam ordered. "Now!"

Darcy grabbed the smooth metal instrument attached to his side. Her fingers fell into appropriately shaped grooves as she pulled it over his shoulder. Her eyes bugged out. It was a gun. She screamed and dropped it. Down, down, down it went into the ocean.

"I'm sorry," she cried. "I freaked out."

"It's okay, it's okay," Sam said. He held her tighter and made a sharp turn left. "I should've warned you. Grab the other one and hold on to it. You know how to use one, right?"

She'd taken a couple of classes on her parents' insistence. They didn't want her living in New York, much less with superheroes, without some way of defending herself. Her aim left much to be desired, but if she had to, she could probably point and pull the trigger. Assuming she wasn't two hundred feet in the air with machine guns after her.

Said guns went off as they left city limits. Darcy screamed and buried her head in Sam's chest. Bullets tapped off his wings and armor. They were newly reinforced with vibranium, or so she'd heard. Vibranium or no, they were tough. Sam barely seemed conscious of the threat to their lives as he fell into a zigzag pattern. The helicopter stopped shooting, allowing Darcy to reach around for the second gun. It was heavier than the first and her palms were soaked, but she had a good enough hold to react instinctively when the helicopter started gaining on them.

She fired once and hit the window, cracking it. The recoil almost knocked her out of Sam's grip. Her ears rang and her arms felt like fire. The helicopter's course faltered, allowing them to fly towards a nearby cliffside undeterred. Darcy kept her eyes closed from there. She didn't hear any bullets, but the whirring blades continued for a long time and never seemed to get any softer.

Not until she caught the scent of saltwater did she dare to look. They were over the shore and about to land on top of a small mountain. Sam lowered her gently to the ground. It was warmer down here, but once she was finished kissing the sand and then spitting it back out, she felt a chill and pulled her jacket tighter around her.

"Solid land," she moaned. "I'll never leave you again."

Sam pulled off his goggles and chuckled. "Sorry, that was such a bumpy ride. We're safe here for now."

"For now," Darcy repeated. "That is fast becoming my least favorite phrase of all time."

"I don't blame you," he said.

He guided her to a rock big enough for sitting. Darcy leaned her head on his shoulder before realizing what she was doing. Following the requisite seizing stab of embarrassment, she decided she didn't give a crap and hugged him.

"You were good back there," he said.

"No, I wasn't," she said. "I'm a mess. I shouldn't even be in this situation. I'm not a hero, I'm just a coffee girl. What makes me so special?"

She whimpered like a sad kitten drenched in rainwater. This was the worst day of her life. She was a wanted woman, she'd been shot at a million times, and God, her parents must be so pissed right now. She'd never hear the end of it.

"Give yourself more credit," Sam said. "You're in a tight spot, but you're still moving. Still trying to clear your name. A lot of people would've cracked by now."

"I'm on the edge, believe you me."

"But you're not over it."

He had this weird way of making everything he said, no matter how unbelievable, seem perfectly logical. Darcy didn't know if this was the therapist in him or just her brain's desperate need for a human connection taking his words to mean more than he intended, but goddamn, did she want to kiss him right now. "When this is over, you want to go out sometime?"

Sam brow shot up. "Really?"

Darcy flinched. "Was that a 'holy crap I'd love to' kind of really or 'holy crap I can't believe you'd even ask?'"

"More like a 'this is not the best time,'" he said, smiling, "but yeah, I'd like that."

His phone beeped. On his call ID was a photo of Bucky asleep with a shaving cream Santa Claus beard on his face. "Looks like our ride is on the way," Sam said, squeezing her shoulder. "Let's get your name cleared and then we can get pizza."

"And watch Stranger Things?" Darcy asked hopefully.

"Works for me."