Darcy let her teeth chatter a bit after Cap - no, Steve - jumped out his own window like a maniac and took off toward the danger. She rolled her shoulders and shook out her arms to release the nerves and adrenaline still rushing through her system. She thought she'd put up a pretty good front - and she wasn't lying, anyway. She and Jane had been through a lot worse than a couple guys with guns. Still, facing mortality was never pleasant, in a way these superhuman types couldn't understand. Darcy hated feeling so helpless. Jane always worked the problem - it was her go-to solution when shit hit the fan. Darcy felt more like a duck-and-cover sort most days. Hide under a desk and cower in fear. Or sit in a secure apartment and go through Steve Roger's watchlist.
Geez, everything on here is old, Darcy thought. Ooh! White Christmas!
She went to the kitchen to find a snack, then settled in and pressed play. Darcy had already texted Janie, with no response. She wasn't worried, though. Jane was off presenting at a fancy science conference for the whole week, well away from upstate New York.
The movie opened at the end of World War II and she immediately thought of Steve. Her thoughts meandered back to the prior month - the last time Captain America had done something heroic to save her life.
One month ago -
Darcy had long since gotten used to the famous faces around the New Avengers Facility. Earlier in the year Tony Stark, on Erik Selvig's recommendation, had offered Dr. Jane Foster a bit of lab space and all the tech she could want for various projects. Unlimited budget and no oversight? Darcy had been skeptical, but Tony assured them that the only catch was they had to live in the swanky apartments provided on-site.
Jane and Darcy dropped their prior commitments and came running.
They worked steadily on astronomical observations for nearly three months - nothing flashy, just data. Darcy steered clear of the New Avengers program. Several other scientists she met frequented the tall windows over the New Avenger's training wing on their lunch breaks, hoping to catch a glimpse of the Scarlet Witch in action, or Cap tossing his shield around. Darcy'd had enough adventure being around Thor during the Convergence.
So when she ended up on an elevator with Steve Rogers, she gave him a quick side-eye and pulled her phone closer to her face. The man exuded confidence in waves. No doubt he had important business, like meeting Tony about defense systems for the compound or something.
"Which floor?" he asked politely, his finger hovering over the buttons.
Darcy opened her mouth to reply when the lights flickered. The comforting hum of the elevator powered down, leaving the pair of them in darkness.
"Uh...what the shit?" Darcy muttered, tucking her phone in her bag.
"Nothing to worry about, ma'am," Cap reassured her as she grimaced. "Stark tech is the best in the world."
"Ma'am," she grumbled to herself. Come on! She wasn't the one in her nineties!
The elevator made an eerie guttural creak and she edged closer to the geriatric beside her. She couldn't see, so she just guessed and then accidentally hit Cap in the arm with her face. Embarrassed, she backed off.
"Sorry, Cap, didn't see you there."
Darcy blushed as she remembered her phone. She pulled it back out and switched on the flashlight app just in time to see Steve pop open the emergency phone panel.
"Hello?" he said pleasantly, like it was a social call. "Yes. Elevator 3B. Yes. Well, I can open it, sure, but would that damage it? Okay, then. Okay. Got it."
Steve hung up the phone and turned to her.
"They said I can just open the doors, so we'll be out of here in a jiffy."
Darcy nodded and did her best not to pull a face at him. She was sure the kindly attitude was meant to put her at ease, but it felt patronizing.
"Ooookay, Cap. Lemme know if there's anything I can do."
"Hold the light?" he grunted as he placed his fingertips to the seam of the elevator doors.
Darcy rolled her eyes. Well, if there was one thing she'd learned to do while working with Jane, it was effectively hold a flashlight. She raised her phone up high over his shoulder, doing her best to ignore the way his muscles bunched as he applied outward pressure to the doors. They slid apart inch by inch to reveal… a concrete wall and a few wires dangling here and there.
"We're between floors," Darcy said, lowering her phone. "That sucks."
"Yep. Won't be getting out that way," Steve replied, brushing off his hands.
He glanced up and around, standing on tiptoe to test one of the ceiling panels. It gave way and he pushed it aside.
"How do you feel about climbing?" he asked Darcy, who was now shining her flashlight up through the hole he'd created.
"About the same as being stuck in an elevator, so it's not really an improvement," she replied.
Another straining whine sounded and Darcy sucked in a breath as the floor shook.
"I take it back, I love climbing-"
A loud snap cut off her words. The pair were flung from their feet as the elevator dropped several inches. A meager beam of light shone through a two-inch crack at the bottom of the doors, but it wasn't nearly enough to crawl through. Darcy scrambled to her feet and put the phone away again, hauling her bag around to rest at her back.
"We gotta go," Steve said, leaning over and cupping his hands for Darcy.
She stepped onto his fingers, not quite sure how she would reach the ceiling even with his help. With a startling quickness, Darcy felt herself rise through the air. She clutched at Steve's broad shoulders to steady herself. Steve lifted her easily up above his head and halfway through the ceiling of the elevator; she nearly flew out of his hands as she came waist-high out of the compartment. She leaned over and grabbed for anything that was bolted down, then hauled her legs out one at a time.
"You, uh, need a hand up?" she called once she was clear of the opening.
The elevator shuddered again and Darcy hung on to the nearest piece of machinery, resisting the urge to just lay down flat on the unsteady surface. Steve jumped, gripped the framework of the ceiling, and fluidly pulled himself up and over the edge.
"Now what?" Darcy asked.
"Now we go there," replied Steve, pointing to a set of doors five feet above their heads.
"Stupid Stark and his stupid fancy high ceilings," Darcy muttered under her breath.
She thought she heard a snort and looked suspiciously at Steve, but she couldn't make out his expression in the gloom. Darcy released her death grip on the elevator's metal parts and cautiously stood up.
"Okay, come here to the edge. That's it. I've got you," Steve murmured as Darcy picked her way across the top of the elevator.
His outstretched hand was warm and calloused when she took it. Maybe the patronizing tone wasn't so bad after all.
The elevator gave another yawning sigh. Darcy felt Steve's fingers tighten minutely over hers and she suddenly realized he could probably crush her hand to jelly if he wasn't careful. She reached the edge of the elevator, her toes coming right to it, her free hand touching the rough concrete of the elevator shaft. That was when the floor disappeared.
Darcy's stomach dropped into her feet. She screamed, fully expecting to free-fall into a busted nest of twisted metal and electrical wires at the bottom of the shaft. She couldn't feel anything other than Steve Roger's hand clutching hers. Then her shoulder whacked into the concrete wall, scraping hard enough to rip her cardigan and draw blood. Darcy looked up, eyes wide with confusion.
Fucking Steve 'Captain America' Rogers leaned out from the wall like a modern-day Tarzan, gripping the lip of the shaft opening with one hand and holding tight to her with the other.
A deafening crash shook the elevator shaft and Darcy hiccuped out another little scream. A surge of air raced upward, blowing her hair into her face. The smell was metallic mixed with old mustiness. Darcy sneezed, her fingers tightening.
"Hang on, ma'am. Someone's here to open the door," Steve said through gritted teeth.
"Sure," Darcy choked out. Her arm protested, pain shooting down its length. Her shoulder felt like it was on fire.
A few loud bangs and a pop heralded the opening of the door above their heads. Darcy looked up again just in time to see her rescuer grin, haloed by the fluorescent light that spilled out of the doorway. Despite her discomfort, Darcy smiled back. Steve Rogers was way too handsome for his own good, especially when he was in his element.
"Darcy," she sighed, taking in his ruddy cheeks and warm blond locks.
"What?" Steve replied.
"I'm not 'ma'am'. My name's -"
"Darcy!"
The shout startled Darcy out of her reverie and she dropped her spoon.
"Oh, shit," she muttered looking down at the smudge of ice cream on Captain America's couch, then back up as his door burst open.
"Darcy, you're not safe here. We've got to - hey, is that my New York Super Fudge Chunk?!"
Steve stood in the doorway, his chest heaving and his hair mussed. His T-shirt was ripped right across his pecs, but he appeared otherwise uninjured. She leaned forward, casually covering the ice cream stain with one hand on the armrest.
"You said I could raid the fridge, Steve. It's not my fault you don't hide your stash better." Darcy tried to surreptitiously retrieve her spoon from beneath the couch cushion as she defended herself.
Steve stamped in, grumbling. "I thought a wall of frozen dinners around it would indicate what was off limits. Anyway, grab your shoes. I was wrong about their target."
"Oh?" Darcy put the ice cream pint on Steve's coffee table and tugged on her boots.
"Yep. You need to get out of here." Steve rifled through a low cabinet in his kitchen, tugging loose a black duffel bag. He slung it over one shoulder, not bothering to check the contents.
"Is that a 'go' bag? So you mean out of here as in out of your apartment, or…"
"...out of here as in off-site," Steve confirmed. "You're the target, Darcy. This building is compromised. They know our security protocols and all kinds of hidey-holes."
"Okay, well, that's stupid," Darcy replied, not slowing as she stood and pulled on her cardigan. "I'm not even the best hostage material in the building. There's Jane...Pepper… hell, I think Alan in the mail room has a higher clearance than me."
Her lips thinned as she lined up behind Steve at the door frame. He peered out, glancing back and forth before motioning to her to follow. The hall had that quiet hum Darcy usually associated with safety. Now it sounded ominous in her ears.
"He doesn't," said Steve as they walked swiftly to the stairwell.
"Who what?"
"Alan. He doesn't have a higher security clearance."
"That was a joke, Steve. I make jokes when I'm nervous."
Darcy paused as Steve raised his arm for silence and quietly pulled open the stairwell door. He nodded to her and they passed through.
"There's a helipad on the roof," Steve murmured.
Darcy wasn't sure he'd even heard her. He fumbled in a side pocket of the duffel for a moment, then passed her an earwig. Mystified, Darcy put it in. He pressed his own and Darcy got a double-dose of his voice as he spoke.
"Maria, can you get us a helicopter? I have the target with me: Darcy Lewis - she's Dr. Foster's assistant."
He started upward, Darcy following, but paused on the second step as the response came.
"No go, Cap," Natasha answered. "A couple of these assholes have rocket launchers - you can't leave via the roof."
"This is awfully flashy for a hostage grab," Steve replied, grumbling.
He turned and Darcy stumbled back, out of his way. They went down instead. Finally, Darcy thought.
"So we take a car, right?" she murmured, trying to minimize the echo that bounced around the stairwell. Her boots stamped a betraying clatter on the concrete steps.
"Yeah, I think that's our best option," Steve agreed.
They descended the rest of the way in silence, stopping only when they reached the parking level. Steve paused, interposing his shield between himself and the door, then gently pulled it open. He glanced around quickly, then nodded to Darcy as he passed through.
She tiptoed in under buzzing fluorescents, stifling the urge to hang onto Steve's free arm as he strode confidently forward. He held his key card up to a box mounted on the wall and it released with a click, revealing a few dozen sets of keys. Grabbing one, Steve pressed the key fob and a pair of headlights flickered with a beep.
Darcy heard the squeak of a sneaker before she saw anything.
"Steve!" she shouted, ducking just as a bullet whined over her head.
Steve turned his shield in the direction of fire and grabbed Darcy around the waist, tucking her between himself and the vibranium. Goons in the underground garage fired off more rounds as the pair ran, crouched, to the getaway car. Steve yanked the door open and pushed Darcy in.
"Go!" he shouted.
She crawled over the driver's seat, flinching as more bullets impacted the vehicle. It hardly even shook. Surprised, she settled into the passenger's seat and realized the sleek sedan was bullet-proof as more gunfire sounded. Steve chucked his shield into the back and slammed the driver's side door. He twisted the key in the ignition and the car roared to life.
"Put your seatbelt on," Steve reminded her as he peeled out, tires squealing.
Rolling her eyes but not an idiot, Darcy did as she was told. She lifted the flap of her purse and rummaged around, sighing with relief when she found her chapstick. Muffled impact sounded behind her and she twisted to see more bullets spraying the back window. The sight made her flinch, but the bullets just plinked off like pea gravel and her fear dissipated. Grinning to herself, Darcy shot the finger at the two men running behind the vehicle. Turning back around, she adjusted her seat and yanked the belt into a more comfortable position. The roar of her pulse abated as she looked up at her accidental protector.
"So where to, Cap?" she asked.
"Not sure," he replied. "We've got to get clear and then find someplace safe for a bit while the Avengers figure this thing out."
His reply was conversational, like he did this all the time.
He's not even winded, Darcy thought to herself. Jerk. She watched as he flipped switches on the console; within moments, the Black Widow's garbled voice could be heard.
Darcy's righteous indignation drained away when they emerged into daylight. A peek in the passenger side mirror made her gasp.
"Steve!" she hollered just as the pair from the garage fired an actual rocket at their car.