In 2017, Darcy and James need to find a safe place for the night in the city.
"What are you going to be doing while I'm hiding in the now bulletproof truck?"
"I'm going to go take care of this so it doesn't become an armed chase through the streets of New York." He waved his hand at the open door again.
"If you try to mansplain me into that fucking truck one more time — what does that mean? What does you're going to go take care of it mean?"
"Where are we headed?" Darcy had her arm looped through James'. He was keeping his head down so the hat would hide his face, and he'd carefully maneuvered her onto his right side, so his stronger arm was free.
"What are the odds Tony actually comes after you?" He asked, turning his head so she could see the thin set of his lips. He'd been wary of returning to the US after they'd found a modicum of peace in Wakanda. It was Darcy who'd pushed to return, wanting to stop putting her own career on hold now that Jane seemed adequately taken care of by her Asgardian lover, and the worst of James' Hydra programming was removed by Shuri. That was months ago, and so far, Darcy would have to admit that James' instincts about coming back to the US had been better than hers.
"He'll come but he won't come guns blazing. He still doesn't suspect I've taken a dangerous lover." She counted to three in her head before she found herself pushed up against the rough stone of the closest covered doorway.
"A dangerous lover huh?" James' eyes were bright in the dark of the alcove, and he must not be too worried yet because she could feel his right hand working its way up under her layers to rub at the bare skin between the armored vest and her jeans. "Tell me about him."
"Yes. He's very strong and very wicked." Her smile was matched on his face as he ducked his head to press his lips to hers. "A good kisser too." She added when he pulled away, and she loved the way he muffled his laugh in her hair.
"You know we have to keep moving. If it's not Tony, it'll be Fury and the Widow having you tailed. Not to mention other interested parties if they flagged your file" The hand at her hip flexed in apology, and Darcy let out a sigh. She did know that.
"I think it's really rude of them, to be honest. I'm just trying to live my life." She pushed him back, and he went without objection, pulling her out onto the pavement at his side.
"We were just trying to live our life in Romania too." He pointed out as he started to lead them again, and she was pretty sure they were headed towards one of the safehouses in the Bronx.
"Yes," she agreed, "and that was rude too, but at least then we had Zemo to blame." The entire Avengers implosion wasn't something she liked to think about very often. It had been the most terrifying four days of her life, and that was saying something. She'd come back from a visit to the local university to find the apartment they'd been renting practically demolished. No sign of James outside of his go bag being gone and some distinctly metal hand-shaped holes in the walls.
He'd turned up days later at their rendezvous point with one arm, Steve Rogers in tow, and a trail of well-documented destruction in his wake. Darcy had been an emotional wreck. Jane had asked if the missing arm would limit his ability to do the heavy lifting. James had just dragged Darcy to his chest and kept her there for hours. Steve Rogers had been… confused.
"I'll never forget Stevie's face," James muttered, and Darcy realized they must have been sharing thoughts.
"Should we call him?" She asked, then let out a yelp as she almost tripped over nothing. James' firm grip on her hand kept her upright. "Sorry."
"I cannot understand how you can do handstands like you were born to be a Widow but walking down a flat street eludes you." It was said with a smirk, and Darcy chose to ignore his teasing in the hopes he'd answer the question. She wasn't disappointed. "I don't think we should call Steve yet. If we have to get out of the city we will."
He was leading her down the stairs into the subway when her stomach decided to remind them both that she never got any dinner. "We can get dinner on the way." He said before she could comment, and she squeezed his hand in thanks.
Two trains and one annoying but apparently necessary jaunt above ground, just in case, found them in the aisle of a grocery store 15 blocks from the safehouse in Hunt's Point. Darcy had already picked up all the meat and bread necessary to make sandwiches and was now contemplating her condiment choices. James was getting antsier by the second.
She was mentally debating the merits of Japanese vs. American mayo when she felt him shift from foot to foot for the third time in two minutes. "You know pouting about it isn't going to make me decide any faster." She warned without looking away from the label of the jar of Hellmann's in her hand.
"And reading all the ingredients isn't going to make it taste any better. We both know you're going to end up getting honey mustard instead." He had the *audacity* to already be holding the bottle of honey mustard.
"Shows what you know." Darcy muttered and then threw the Helmanns into her basket. "Now we need to pick chips Buckaroo."
"You know I hate when you call me that." He said as he tossed the mustard in next to her deli meats.
"You only hate it when I do it to make a point." She stopped in front of the chips, and she could almost feel him going tense at her shoulder.
"Darcy, if you pick a bag of chips in the next thirty seconds and let me get you to a secure location I promise I will make it worth your while."
"Deal." She grabbed the closest bag, threw it in the basket, and immediately headed for the checkout. James paid with cash, and then they were back on the street.
One more train ride and a roundabout trip through the streets to their final destination. Darcy hated this safe house. It technically wasn't meant for tenants, and it put them closer to Manhattan than any of the others, but it was the most off the grid and, by James' estimation, therefore the most secure.
"We're going to freeze," Darcy said as she settled on the king-size mattress pressed into one corner of the room. She was pretty sure it used to be the warehouse manager's office based on the windows that overlooked the main floor of the abandoned space.
"We'll be okay," James said as he dropped down beside her and started pulling food out of the plastic bodega bags. "You want me to make you a sandwich?"
She watched him for a few seconds, the play of muscle under his clothes as he moved to unpack things, the way he examined each item but not with the confusion he used to show when they first met. She rose up on her knees behind him and looped her arms over his shoulders, pressing her face into his neck in a way that would have had him stiff as stone only a few years before. Now he just reached back to cup her head with one big hand, the dull metal fingers cool against the back of her neck.
"How long do you think we need to stay here?" She whispered the question into his neck but knew he heard her.
"Not long." He said, and his fingers took up a comforting rhythm against her scalp. "I can figure out how to get us a new more permanent location in the city. We might need to dip into those accounts again though."
That didn't bother her. Tony had been unwittingly bankrolling the movements of the former Winter Soldier for three years now. "Do you want to stay in the city?"
That was a good question. Darcy knew Steve was out in California at the moment, and she was pretty sure Hawkeye was currently in one of the fly-over states hiding out on a farm of all things. Jane and Thor were back in Greenland. The only thing that had brought them to NY was James' desire to see his old stomping grounds in Brooklyn and Darcy's unspoken desire to see if she could exist a little closer to her father.
"We could go back to Wakanda." She mused, and he shifted under her, pulling her weight effortlessly around his side until she was perched in his lap, his hands spanning her waist under her leather jacket.
"We left Wakanda because, and I quote, 'you got your new arm and those dumb words removed, and I refuse to settle into a life of goat herding just because you don't like commercial air travel.' Did I remember that right?" He pressed their foreheads together, and Darcy melted into his chest.
"Sounds like me." She admitted and then swallowed his laugh when he kissed her.
"We can go wherever you want doll." He said against her lips.
"How about to bed?" She asked and made sure her hips made her real meaning very clear.
"Especially to bed."
—
She woke hours later to James' hand pressed firmly over her mouth, his face hovering inches over her own. He put a finger to his lips, and she nodded before he pulled his hand back, and she let her eyes dart around the room. Lights were coming in through the windows that overlooked the warehouse below, and James had a pistol in his right hand.
"Get dressed." The words were whispered so softly that she almost didn't hear them, but she'd been here before. So while James crept across the room, gun at his side, she slowly started to pull on her jeans and t-shirt. The vest would be tricky to get on silently and alone, but it didn't look like her favorite person was available for assistance.
Fully dressed, boots on, and her backpack strapped across her chest, she tip-toed over to crouch down next to James. "Four downstairs, two on the roof, possibly more outside, all armed." He whispered, and Darcy felt her heart stutter in her chest. This didn't make any sense.
Tony wouldn't bring in black ops to find her. Even if he'd managed to find proof she was with James, he still would have come in on his own. SHIELD might come in like this, but SHIELD was barely an agency anymore. General Ross was the most likely candidate, but he hadn't been on James in months.
James shook her shoulder and pointed to the fire escape access across the room. Darcy moved without needing further prompting. She opened the window just as she heard the first creak of the stairs up to the office. She had one leg out of the window when she caught the flash of red out of the corner of her eye, and it was nothing but instinct that had her throwing herself back into the room just before a bullet took a chunk out of the window frame.
James was across the room, kneeling over her in a heartbeat. One of his hands ran over her head and neck. Even as the other aimed a gun out the open window. "Where —"She gasped and then ducked to cover her ears as James started firing back towards the warehouse door.
"Go! Go!" He pulled her up, practically dragging her until she got her feet under her. He was holding her arm in his right hand tight enough to bruise, the left hand clutching a gun that was still firing rapidly down into the open warehouse from the catwalk outside the office.
"Take this." He shoved a newly reloaded gun into her free hand and shifted to keep her behind him as they moved towards the stairs. "Shoulders low, pull the trigger, don't squeeze, aim at the bad guys." James' voice rang out over the returning fire, and even through it all, Darcy could suddenly hear familiar Russian words being yelled over everything else.
"You have got to be fucking kidding me!" Darcy cried, and before she could start forward, James swung an arm out in front of her and fired down into the first floor of the warehouse. Six fast shots and quiet fell over the room.
"Are they all dead?" Darcy tried to move around the bulk of James' body again, and he shifted to block her.
"Yes." James was absolutely more Winter Soldier than himself at the moment, and Darcy reached out to press a palm flat against his back. "Come on."
Thirty seconds later, Darcy was very glad that he'd dragged them all the way out to this particular safe house. "There are still snipers outside. Possibly more on the ground, agents and a chase car." He said as he worked to pull a heavy tarp off the old Pinzgauer. Jane had been confused when James wanted it after they'd returned to the states. Darcy hadn't asked any questions, so used to his security habits at that point, she'd just assumed he had plans and hoped they wouldn't need to use them. "You're going to get in and stay low."
Darcy looked at the door he was holding open for her. It was much thicker than she remembered. "Did you armor the Pinz?" It came out an almost hysterical shriek.
"We don't have time to do this right now, Darcy." He was tapping his foot as he spoke and waved a hand towards the open door, an unspoken order.
She sunk her heels in. "What are you going to be doing while I'm hiding in the now bulletproof truck?"
"I'm going to go take care of this so it doesn't become an armed chase through the streets of New York." He waved his hand at the open door again.
"If you try to mansplain me into that fucking truck one more time — what does that mean? What does you're going to go take care of it mean?" She shoved at the door, trying to close it, and he held firm, his eyes darting around the high windows of the warehouse.
"You're using mansplain wrong again doll." He wiped at his face with the hand holding the gun. "Get in the truck Darcy. I can't do what I need to do if I'm worried about you."
"I won't do *anything* without you." She snapped back, and he closed his eyes, squeezing them shut before opening them back up. He stared at her for a long moment.
"God damnit!" He slammed the armored door of the Pinz closed and marched across the space to another tarp-covered vehicle. "You're going to have to drive." He barked as he ripped the cover off a black Mercedes sedan. He threw his pack in and climbed into the passenger seat as Darcy scrambled to get into the driver's seat and dropped her bag in the back.
"This one is bulletproof too, neat!" Darcy chirped in an effort to lighten the mood, but James was already pulling guns out of what had to be a modified glove box, and Darcy wondered how much of Tony's guilt money had gone into the acquisition of this setup. A question for another day.
She started the car and then stopped when James' hand covered hers on the gear shift. "Look at me." He said, and she turned to meet his eyes. They'd already wasted valuable time arguing if there were more men outside, they needed to go. "You're going to drive as fast as you can. We need to get out of the city, so there's more room to maneuver. If something happens…." He looked away for a second and then back, "if something happens to me, you're to keep driving, Darcy. No hospitals, no stops, no detours to save me. You keep driving until you hit that compound your dad built upstate. They'll let you in there, and Tony will keep you safe."
She opened and closed her mouth a few times and then turned to stare out the windshield at the warehouse doors she was about to drive an armored vehicle through. "I do what I want." She said petulantly.
"Yeah," James' voice had gone soft, and his fingers brushed against her cheek, "you do and I love you for it. But I need you to do this for me."
"I love you too." She said around the lump in her throat, then she jerked the gear shift back into drive and gave him a wicked smile, "hold on, Sarge." She hit the gas.