Chapter 19
"I come bearing gifts!"
I startled in my seat as I heard a door burst open and an unknown woman's voice call out through Steve's apartment.
We'd been eating in companionable silence with Bucky and Natasha for the most part, and I had slowed down, feeling tiredness creep into my body once more. But the loud noise brought me back to myself almost violently.
"It's okay," Steve soothed me quickly. "It's just Darcy."
"Just Darcy?" The woman in question joked as she stepped into view holding a big box that Bucky immediately rose to take from her. "That hurts, Cap."
"She nearly jumped out of her skin with that entrance you made," Natasha gently rebuked. "She's been through some things."
The woman- Darcy, I guessed- looked a little guilty at that, but she turned to me with a big smile.
"You must be Steph," she said kindly as she held out a hand to me.
Taking hers in mine, I said, "and you must be Darcy."
"Have you been telling your lady friend about me, Cap?" Darcy teased. "I heard you were terrible with women, but I thought you at least knew better than to talk about other women to them. Not that I'm an other woman. Just you know, a woman. Cap and I never did the deed or anything-"
"Darce," Natasha cut in.
I smiled because it was genuinely fun to watch someone else seem to struggle with accidentally over sharing. I let her off the hook though clarifying, "no. Only when you came in just now."
"Not even a mention?" Darcy whined.
Steve laughed, and clarified, "I remember telling a story or two, but I guess I didn't use your name."
I studied her with pursed lips and eventually hazarded a guess, "are you the one who tased Thor?"
"Yes I did," her chest puffed up in pride as she confirmed. "How did you know if he didn't say my name?"
"He told me the story when I was training with Natasha one day. Honestly, he might have said your name and I forgot. There's been a lot going on, and I was probably very tired and worried about being in over my head at the time. But it was a story about how sometimes you didn't have to be bigger or a better fighter- you just need the element of surprise."
"I am definitely not bigger or a better fighter than Thor," Darcy confirmed with a nod. Then she snorted out a laugh as she added, "and I think he was quite surprised."
"So whatcha got there, Darcy?" Steve asked, bringing us all back on topic.
"Tony asked me to bring some things for Steph, including a message," Darcy responded.
She went over to the table where Bucky had set the box across from the breakfast bar, and I turned in my seat curiously to watch as she unloaded it.
"Stark phone, which is set up with your old number- he wanted me to let you know that you have half a million voicemails, and he was able to move them over to this new phone for you," Darcy started. "I don't think he meant that literally, though. Because while a phone Tony Stark made probably could hold that many messages, I doubt your old one could."
"Ugh," I let out. "That would be the Burg gossips wanting to try to get the scoop as well as my mother calling to tell me how disappointed she is in me and why can't she have a normal daughter? Why can't I be more like my sister? Why can't I be like whichever of her friends or neighbors' daughter just got engaged or married or had a baby or whatever she's on about today."
"Steph, take a deep breath," Steve's voice cut through my rant.
"Oh damn, am I naked again?" I squished up my eyes so I couldn't see.
"Nope," Darcy told me. "Just smoking. But that does explain these!"
She pulled some clothes out of the box as she said that.
"Pepper told me to apologize to you on her behalf," Darcy informed me. "She knows that they're ugly, but it was the best she could do on such short notice. She has people working on it though."
They looked like perfectly functional clothes to me, and I didn't know what the issue was, so I said as much.
"They're not pretty," Natasha told me. When everyone looked at her, Natasha shrugged. "Pepper Potts, CEO of Stark Enterprises, knows the value of presenting a particular image of yourself. She likes to look strong and beautiful not for anyone other than for herself and the confidence and power it gives her. And she wants for Steph to have clothes that make her feel good about herself, in general, but also while she deals with what's coming."
"Did you talk to her…" Darcy asked. "Why didn't they just give you the stuff?"
"I have not spoken to Pepper since before I left for Trenton," Natasha said. "I know her. I'm good at reading people and their motivations."
"Story checks out," Darcy agreed enthusiastically. "Nat is like the ultimate spy."
Bucky huffed out an offended breath, and I looked over to see a small smile crooking up the corner of his mouth.
"The clothes look great to me," I insisted, feeling a little awkward all of the sudden. "I'm not really a 'fashion' person. I'm more of a ripped jeans and clearance sales person."
Natasha and Darcy both hummed noncommittally, and I was a little worried that they were going to gang up on me.
"Well, if you're going to be Captain America's lady friend—" Darcy started.
"Girlfriend," Steve interrupted. "She's my girlfriend not some kind of dalliance!"
"No offense intended," Darcy told him. "I just didn't want to put labels on if they hadn't been discussed and make it awkward. Natasha said you were just getting to know each other and hadn't committed to being in a relationship."
"They hadn't when we spoke last," Natasha informed her. "I walked in on that conversation earlier."
"Mmmm," Darcy licked her lips. "Like walked in on? Because congrats to you both, as I bet that is an awesome sight to behold."
"Darcy," Steve warned, his voice taking on a dark tone that I found oddly… stirring.
"Sadly no," Natasha spoke over Steve. "But I'm sure they'll get around to that soon enough."
Bucky grumbled something that made Steve turn bright red but nobody else seemed to actually hear, and thankfully the conversation moved on.
I'd finished all the soup I thought I could stomach for the moment, so I rose and picked up my dishes. Steve reached out and placed a hand gently over mine and gestured over to Darcy.
With a sigh, I left the dishes and walked over to see what else was in the box.
When I got there, Darcy surprised me once again by pulling me into a hug.
"HYDRA can suck a big old bag of dicks," Darcy insisted. "And your mom doesn't sound like she knows what the fuck she's talking about."
"Thanks," I whispered as she pulled away.
"Now we also have a tablet for you, some shoes, a stun gun of which I am seriously jealous, and a watch with a panic button on it," Darcy listed off.
"Will the watch track me at all times?" I asked uneasily.
"We will only track it if you push the alert button or have been missing for more than a day without checking in," Natasha informed me seriously.
I chewed my lip a little, but in the end it seemed like a good idea even if they were going to track me. After all, I seemed to be a bit of a hot commodity with bad guys for the moment. Again.
I blew out a dramatic sigh, and everyone paused what they were doing and looked at me.
"I'm a disaster," I said. "Any objective person would look at my current situation and say, 'that woman? She's a fucking disaster.' And they'd be right."
Everyone started speaking at once, so I couldn't really follow any one voice until Steve came up behind me and pulled my back into his front. He leaned down until his mouth was right next to my ear, and he whispered, "you are a treasure."
I turned my head to look at him, and seeing the sincerity in his eyes slowly relaxed and melted into him, allowing a small smile to cross my face.
Darcy snapped her fingers to get my attention back to her, and said, "okay. You two can be mushy later."
She pulled what looked like a metal briefcase out of the box, and I supposed I hadn't noticed it before because she had everything else piled on top of it. Natasha moved closer and watched carefully as Darcy walked me through a set of biometric scans that JARVIS would be able to use to verify my identity anytime he was up close and personal. Apparently he was also observing and making record of my gait and mannerisms to use in more broad cases where I wasn't at a retinal, palm, or finger scanner.
It all seemed very spy movie intense, but then again, I guessed Avengers Tower of all places that level of security made sense. Especially after, from what I understood, they'd all be recently burned rather badly by finding HYDRA rats in their midst. Even Stark and those not directly involved with SHIELD at the time.
Once the scans finished and a confirmation screen came up, Natasha swiped the briefcase before Darcy could close it up and went over to the breakfast bar. I watched from where I was, grateful for the feet between us as she began furiously typing on a keyboard that popped out of the side of the briefcase all while arguing viciously with Bucky.
"Are they speaking…" I trailed off at the end of the question because I was not a language person, and I really had no guess. I knew it wasn't Italian, but that was about all I knew.
"Russian," Steve said tersely. I looked back up at him, concerned as he'd stiffened up considerably behind me— and not in the good way.
"Bucky speaks Russian?" I asked surprised. As far as I'd known, they had both grown up in Brooklyn, and Bucky had been captured by the Germans/HYDRA. So I could see English and German, but where had the Russian come from? There hadn't been anything in the SHIELD file dump.
I looked at Darcy with questions in my mind, and she shook her head quickly and definitively telling me in no uncertain terms that I should NOT ask. What she said was, "you don't think Natasha had a go at at least a little bit of that data before she released it?"
I turned back to where Black Widow and Winter Soldier had been arguing— because there was no doubt in my mind that it had been those two and not Natasha and Bucky at the time— and raised my brow as I saw how much Natasha seemed to be comforting him as she guided him through the same scans as I had done.
A person who had never met either before may not have seen it as that, but it was. She'd moved closer, her arm was on the back of the chair just close enough to be brushing his shoulder, and I thought I could hear her practically crooning at him ever so quietly.
I looked back at Steve, and I whispered, fearful of either party hearing me, "are they…?"
Steve watched a moment longer, puzzled look on his face before he turned back to me. He brought one of his hands up to gently tilt my face so I was looking at him instead of at the… pair? Couple? It seemed like he was trying to get me to give them privacy, and I let him as I looked up at him with a raised brow.
He relaxed a little as he shrugged his shoulders, and he finally said, "I don't know. Neither of them said anything remotely like that to me." He reached a hand up and ran it through his hair as he thought before simply admitting, "it would explain a few things though. Like how Natasha knew so much about him and insisted that the Winter Soldier wasn't just the ghost story everyone else believed him to be. Other than because he shot her. And how she got her hands on those files so quickly…"
He trailed off, and was clearly trying to figure more out, so I left him to it and turned back to Darcy. She was very pointedly not looking in the direction of the breakfast bar, and instead looked at everything that had been unpacked from her box.
"I think that's everything," Darcy said. "Tell JARVIS to let me know if you need anything else."
"Thanks," I said quietly.
"Happy to help." Darcy picked up her box and then nodded in the direction of Natasha and Bucky without actually looking over as she added, "I don't want to know. I don't need to know. I value my life too much. Just let Mother Russia over there know that Tony is going to want that biometric set-up back when she's done with it. Oh! And speaking of. Tony and Bruce said that they'll catch up with you tomorrow. They're buried in data in science land, and they won't have results for you before then."
And with that, Darcy breezed out just as quickly as she had come in.
Clearly still wanting to give Bucky and Natasha some space, Steve gathered up the things that Darcy had left and guided me down a hallway on the opposite end of the living space than we'd come from his bedroom. When we entered another bedroom, I realized it was the guest room he'd mentioned before.
"Help yourself to a shower or a bath if you'd like, relax a bit, and I'll be in the living room whenever you're ready. You can keep those clothes or change into the stuff Pepper sent. Whichever you'd prefer," he told me.
He bent down and pressed some kisses to my lips that were gentle and definitely didn't intend to build to anything. But they did still convey a lot of emotion.
When he pulled back I asked, "what're we going to do for the day?"
"Today?" He clarified. "Just relax. Not much to do until Tony and Bruce have results for us, and I think we could use it."
At that he walked out, and I took a few seconds to look around before doing as he suggested and taking a shower. As I stepped into the bathroom, the mirror caught my eye, and I noticed that Steve had been at it again, presumably while I'd napped earlier.
On the mirror was simply written, "Hello, Gorgeous."
For some reason that made me blush, so I dove into the shower and set about doing my business.
When I exited, I picked up my discarded clothes and walked out to the dresser where I'd left the new garments Darcy had dropped off. I pulled up short when I saw that Steve had come back into the room and decorated the mirror there as well. Clearly he'd been inspired by what I had said about my mother because on this one we're the words, "You are wanted. You are ENOUGH."
I eyed the two piles of clothing while trying to decide what to wear, and in the end, I decided in addition to the clean undergarments, I would wear the pair of new yoga pants. The pants I'd been wearing before were, I suspected, actually Steve's and they really didn't fit well at all— in particular they were miles too long.
The material of the pants was surprisingly scratchy given the fact that they looked like regular stretchy yoga pants, but I didn't think much of it. That did, however, seal my decision to don the borrowed shirt once more, rather than wearing one of the newly provided ones. Something about putting it on just felt like being wrapped up in Steve's arms.
I felt a little awkward leaving the room, knowing that it wasn't just Steve's space I was in, but rather Sam's and now Bucky's as well. Still I gathered up my courage and opened the door then walked down the hallway, hearing a dull noise grow steadily louder as I did.
When I reached the end of the hallway and caught sight of the living room, I paused a little at how decidedly normal the scene before me looked. Steve was sitting on one of the couches, legs stretched out in front of him on an ottoman. Sam was at the far end of the couch, with plenty of space between them, and Clint was sprawled sideways across one of the armchairs, locked in some sort of debate with Sam. On the TV in front of them was basketball, though nobody seemed to be paying it much attention at all.
Steve twisted, eyes instantly finding mine and a smile jumped to his lips. I wondered if he'd used his super hearing to listen to me walk down the hall and sought to reassure me of my welcome when I paused. Of course, it was also possible that he just was used to being able to tell when someone was watching him using whatever sixth sense it was that Ranger, and I felt certain at least Bucky, Natasha, and Clint, had honed over the years.
Whatever the reason he looked back in the first place, Steve didn't hesitate before stretching an arm out and gesturing me forward. The inherent welcome in the movement made me smile and pushed me into motion once more, this time eager rather than hesitant to close the gap between us.
I walked around to the front of the couch and let Steve pull me down to settle next to him with my feet tucked up under me and off to the side opposite him.
"You're a basketball fan?" I asked curiously. We'd never gotten around to talking about sports before.
"I don't mind it, but I'm more of a baseball guy myself," he told me.
"Which team?" I prompted.
"The Dodgers," he responded. "Even if they moved, they're still my team."
Well, Steve was nothing if not loyal.
"What about you?" Steve asked me in return.
"I'll watch whatever sport," I said. "I don't follow too closely. Usually I cheer for a local team."
I ended with a small shrug and let my focus move toward the TV. Along the way, I caught sight of a heavy looking book on the coffee table.
Intrigued, I leaned forward and glanced at Steve for permission before grabbing it. He tensed up ever so slightly, but nevertheless nodded his head in agreement.
I thought I heard a brief pause in the other men's conversation, but it picked back up so quickly that I couldn't say for sure. I shifted a little so I was snuggled into Steve even more, and he draped his arm across my shoulder. With the way my legs were angled, the book ended up perched half on my lap and half on Steve's as I opened it.
I sucked in a breath when I saw a black and white picture of a good looking couple on the first page— Steve had told me about his father dying before he was born and his mother dying when he was just 18. I could see enough of him in both people on the page to realize they were his parents.
Reaching my hand up, I linked my fingers through the hand of the arm Steve had strewn across my shoulders and gave it a squeeze.
"She was beautiful," I told Steve. "And your dad looks like a good man."
It was true, but they also looked painfully young, especially since he was wearing what appeared to be a military dress uniform.
"Your mom's name was Sarah," Bucky whispered from behind me. And I think I would have jumped clear out of my skin if Steve hadn't tightened his grip.
"That's right," Steve tried to look casual as he turned to speak to Bucky.
"And your dad died in the 107th. You wanted to join it when you tried to enlist, but I knew they weren't going to take you so I requested it," Bucky slowly added, just as quietly as he'd previously spoken.
The range of emotions that passed over Steve's face was vast and heartbreaking, but when he cleared, he said, "took all the stupid with you."
Bucky actually laughed outright at that, spell broken, and replied, "You're a punk."
"Jerk," Steve tossed back easily.
The men shared a nod, each with their own small smile on their face, and Bucky walked around to sit on the couch. He wasn't touching me, but he was definitely in my personal space. He was Steve's Bucky though, and he'd never been anything other than kind and respectful to me, so I didn't really mind.
Bucky reached over slowly, giving me enough time to protest if I wanted and snagged the corner of the book with his fingers. When I said nothing, instead shifting so I was completely upright, Bucky tugged it until it was squarely in my lap.
"Oh my God," I said on a gasp when Bucky turned the page. "Is that you?!"
My eyes had turned all wide as I took in the little boy on the page in front of me, and when I turned my gaze to Steve, he looked almost pained.
"Yeah," He admitted.
"You were adorable," I said and pressed a kiss to his cheek.
"I was fourteen," he told me.
"George Washington High School in Brooklyn," Bucky interjected. "I met him when two bullies were trying to steal his money and he wouldn't give it up. Never did know when to quit."
I heard a snorted laugh from the side of the room I'd thought was empty, and I saw that Natasha had sat herself down on the second couch perpendicular to ours. I had no idea when she'd arrived, but I shot her a questioning look.
Natasha pitched her voice low and said, "I could do this all day," in what I felt certain was an imitation of Steve.
"I hate bullies!" Sam piped up, his tone taking on an overly… patriotic sound.
I glanced at Steve, and the way he rolled his eyes in response made me dissolve into a fit of giggles.
By the time I settled down, I realized that Bucky had closed the book. I looked over at him in question, and he said, "it's a lot at once to see those. Would you mind if we finished later?"
I offered him a kind smile and picked up the book. I leaned forward to place it on the table once more, and when I leaned back, I amicably bumped his shoulder with mine.
"No problem," I reassured him. "But you have to promise to go through them with me when you're ready, and you have to tell me all the good stories!"
"He'll probably make up half of them," Steve joked, and I thought maybe he was trying to give Bucky an out or maybe just a moment to collect himself.
Instead Bucky just teased, "now why would I do that when there are so many true ones that will suffice." Then he looked at me, and he held out his hand offering me a shake to seal the deal.
Once I released Bucky's grip, Steve pulled me back into his side, and I allowed myself to burrow in and focus on the TV again. Steve's arm started gently stroking up and down my arm, and I slowly lost my ability to concentrate and felt my eyes start to drift shut as the exhaustion began to overtake me once again.