Darcy knows that his spontaneous appearance during the first half of the Fellowship was most likely, almost definitely, a one-time thing, but she doesn't even try to quell the tiny blossom of disappointment that blooms in her chest and radiates to the rest of her being when he doesn't show up as she pops in the second movie of the Lord of the Ring Trilogy. After the menu appears on the screen, she goes to the kitchen and begins putting together the ingredients essential for the Sacred Munchies of Lewis. Once her movie provisions have been adequately prepared, she makes her way back to her living room, snacks in hand.
At the sight of the back of the head full of long, brunette hair, she doesn't even try to hide or cover up the small spark of a smile from twitching at the corners of her lips. He's sitting facing the screen in a lounging position with one of his seriously muscled arms (the metal one) resting against the back of the couch, his back to her as she reenters the room. Even with his back to her, he knows she's there because he clicks the button on the remote in his grip that starts up the film. She shrugs off the lingering question of how he even knew she was watching the movie in her apartment in the first place and plops down next to the ex-assassin, placing her bowl of snacks in the space between them. Once again, they let themselves be lost to the amazing world that Tolkien had the brilliance and geniusness (Yes, Tony, it's a damn word. How do I know that? because I made it one with my awesomeness, which is also a word.) to create and share with the world.
Just like the first time, he leaves with only a small, whispered "thank you" to linger on for some time after he's left the room.
Then it happens again, and again, and again. Soon, they meet up to watch something so often that she comes to think of watching movies with just the two of them to be their Thing. Sure, it's very true that she still very much so enforces Avengers Assemble for Movie Night or Suffer the Wrath of Lewis at least once each week, attendance required with the only exception being the end of the world or an actual Avengers Assemble to save people. However, Movie Night or Wrath, as it's been affectionately shortened to, thank you, Tony, is with everyone, and it's loud. Their Thing is a companionable quiet, something that just the two of them share.
Movies become their thing. More often than not, their interactions barely consist of more than her choosing a film, getting her Sacred Munchies prepped and ready to consume, and then him appearing in the time it takes to blink at the location of their movie-watching, but it's their Thing. Even if she's starting something in her apartment living room, she only has to wait a few minutes before he appears out of thin air.
At first, she picks out the films at random, choosing whichever one she's in the mood for currently. However, after he starts to appear consistently for more than 6 movies, she begins to choose films she hazards a very educated and almost undoubtedly correct guess that he's definitely missed during his time as a Super Soldier assassin popsicle, freeze and unfreeze as needed. They start with the globally agreed upon highlights from each year that he'd been Hydra's unwilling puppet. Then, after they've exhausted those films, she moves them on to her personal favorites. After those, she slowly introduces him to TV shows that she thinks are notable and important for him to know. Sometimes, he'll even request to re-watch something that he seemed to have enjoyed or didn't understand the first time around.
It's their Thing, and it's good. She's never set up any obligations for him, nothing that even so much as implies that he has to appear basically every time she decides to watch a movie for herself, but he does. Even on bad days, he'll show up, which she knows how to spot because, on these days, he'll sit with his back straighter than a rod. Despite the fact that he rarely says anything more than a thank you, she starts to learn whether it's a good or bad day by how he slouches relaxingly, or if he'll sit up straight.
The fact that she's started being able to pick up on his mood when he's around her is something she considers to be amazing. As far as history is concerned, the Winter Soldier is the best and deadliest assassin ever, and if he wanted to keep all of his emotions hidden, she'd never see anything more than a blank slate. However, she's not at all sure how, but she thinks she's made it onto the very short list of people that he trusts enough to show emotion to. And that knowledge (Guess? Assumption?) is something she deeply treasures. Slowly, she begins to learn things about him that make him, well, him.
She learns that he has a taste for the more bitter or salty portions of her Munchies. She learns that if he's enjoying, or even just a tad bit intrigued, by whichever picture they're viewing, he'll lean forwards ever-so-slightly and take handfuls of her food less frequently. She learns that he likes the simple plots more than the complicated ones, and she thinks that might be because they're easy, and don't require a lot of concentration to enjoy. She finds out that if he has to think too hard or too much about something, his brows will furrow, and he'll be still for quite a while. He might even slip into what she's dubbed his "Soldier Mode," which can happen if he thinks on something for too long that it might bring to light a new, unpleasant memory. Soldier Mode is where he'll lose any loose, or relaxed body language and tense up, and his eyes will lose any lively glow.
She learns the little things that no gossip magazine would ever even think to ask about when dredging up an article on the infamous Winter Soldier. She learns the tiny things that separate who he is now from the cocky, Brooklyn playboy of the 1930s and 40s, or even the cold, emotion-deprived assassin Hydra had kept caged for over 70 years. She sees things that make him the man he is now, a soul who's been left with a messy combination of both and is still figuring out how to put the pieces together. She learns the things that make him James.
It's their Thing, and she loves it.